Editor’s Note: It’s been six months since Tara Evans of Pearl had a terrifying stroke on an airplane bound for North Carolina. To have a life-threatening medical emergency in a tin can thousands of feet above the Earth’s surface was not something Tara was prepared for, but thankfully, God was.
We wanted to tell her story — one of courage, divine placement, the kindness of strangers, and God’s hand on everything in our lives — but since her words were so much better than ours, much of this is left exactly as she wrote it with some simple edits for continuity and grammar.
By Tara Evans
I was so excited to finally board my flight. I was taking a quick trip to North Carolina. I found my seat, placed my bags under the seat in front of me and was ready for takeoff. I was enjoying all my gadgets my life partner Bryan Lewis had showered me with: watching “Good Fight” on my new iPad with my pink case, listening with my AirPods, but mostly indulging in the warmth of the portable hand warmer he recently gifted me for Valentine’s Day. I was living my best life. Can you tell I was excited? I had never been able to enjoy a spur-of-the-moment vacation because I was a single momma, but now Bryan was providing me with luxuries I had only ever dreamed about.
Shortly after takeoff the sweetest flight attendant asked me if I would like anything to drink. I was dying for a Diet Coke and when I provided my request, she smiled. Unfortunately, I do not know her name but I am thankful for her kindness and the gift of happiness she gave me. Her face was the last thing I saw and it was etched with a beautiful smile.
I had been thinking to myself, “I’m not feeling well. Actually, I’m not feeling well at all.” I had packed two packs of Atkins peanut M&Ms for my trip. I thought if I could get my hands on a pack I would be good as new. I was wrong, because I never actually got my hands on them.
My name is Tara Evans. I am 47 years old. On March 11, 2024, I suffered a stroke on a Southwest flight. You might not expect it, but my sudden nightmare offered me one glimpse of hope after another. Maybe I have a story worth telling, and it’s a story that I hope will inspire you and resonate with you, and maybe get people talking.
“Can you hear me? My name is Rachael.”
“Rachael?” I could not see her but her voice was right next to me. I could also hear other voices in the background. I recall hearing a male voice: “I think she is having a stroke.”
Dear God, a stroke? I’m 47 years old and I’m healthy. In that instance, I realized I could potentially die but I didn’t want to. So, I went to work… in my actual job as a nurse. I was supposed to be on vacation but here I was, working my own medical emergency.
Rachael seemed to take charge, asking me about my medical history. I could hear someone quote the time of the stroke: 12:30. That’s incredibly important in the treatment of a stroke. I was trying to express my love and gratitude for these complete strangers that were gathering to help me when it dawned on me that I didn’t know the passcode to my own phone or iPad. I couldn’t help my rescuers get in touch with my family or loved ones.
That was a little overwhelming because I knew that knew my code. Unfortunately, I was just absolutely not able to connect the dots to communicate that information.
As I laid on the floor, thinking my eyes were closed (they were actually open but the stroke affected my vision), I could see Bryan. He was the first person I knew I needed to get a message to, and I was able to provide details related to where he worked so they could find him. In my fog, I just wanted to get Bryan the message that I loved him, that I needed him to know how thankful I was for the life he had given me and the boys. Honestly, I just needed him to know how much I loved him. I think I circled back to Bryan a few times, because I realized I might not ever get to tell him everything I wanted to say face to face.
The second person I needed to get a message to was my little brother, Terence Buckley: the man in my life that made Christmas more special for the boys, the guy that sent me flowers just to say he loved me and I was special, and the fella that held my hand until he passed it to Bryan. I needed him to know how much I loved and how special he was to me.
I can’t forget the boys. Please let my boys know I love them. Please let Alexander, Cade and Samuel know how much I love them. For a moment I wondered what it would be like for them if I passed. It was heartbreaking. I wanted them to know how proud I was of them as well.
“Tara, stay with me,” I heard Rachael say to me.
“Rachael?”
“Yes, I’m right here,” she said. Rachael never left my side.
It was a blur: I remember talking to Jesus and asking if someone could pray with me. I recall hearing updates specific to my status, arrival to airport and I remember my questions being answered.
“Are we going to a comprehensive stroke center?” Yes we are.
“Is someone waiting to take me straight to CT?” Yes, someone is waiting.
“Are we within the window for me to receive thrombolytics?”
And it was at that moment I remember I realized I needed to discuss my final wishes so my family didn’t have to make those decisions alone.
And the praying continued. I asked for someone to pray and Rachael asked what I believed.
I said I was a Christian, that I love all people, so Rachael and I prayed together for everyone involved in my care. We prayed for healing, and for a good life and salvation.
We made an emergency landing in Baltimore, a little bumpy but so comforting because everyone was so concerned about the landing impacting me. I was thankful to be landing and thankful for the bumps. I recall being nervous about falling in transport but so many people were around me and assured me they had me… and they did. The final report was given and I was on my way to UMMC Maryland, and my memory ends there.
I’m not sure, but I think my memory temporarily left when I separated from Rachael, my earthly angel. Several days later I was telling Bryan about Rachael and how she kept me calm and prayed with me. It was at that moment Bryan told me that he had been in contact with her.
Rachael had made sure she delivered my message from the airplane to Bryan and after that, she had continued to inquire about my progress. That’s when I found out that she is Dr. Rachael Morris, a maternal-fetal medicine specialist and associate professor in the Department of Obstetrics and Gynecology at the University of Mississippi Medical Center.
Rachael never told me she was a doctor. She simply introduced herself as Rachael and she held my hand and filled me with a sense of peace. I hope to thank her in person one day.
There were other angels in my path that day. Cameron “Cami” Lingenfelter. She is a third-year medical student at UMMC Baltimore, and the world just has no idea. First, she has the sweetest spirit and never shied away from my emotions. She was compassionate, driven and determined to help me. When she sat with me and asked me how I was doing, her inquiry was authentic. She picked up on my wit and laughed when I attempted to make jokes about my electroencephalogram leads and homemade head cap. To me, in that moment, it was terribly important for me to acknowledge how fabulous I looked so we could pack up the pink elephant in the room, and she was there for it.
Cami pushed me during her daily neuro exams and made the experience fun for me. She built me up when I answered questions incorrectly and never led me to question myself. Don’t tell anyone, but she also came in before she started and ended her days to check on me. She brought me Diet Coke and I could tell she just honestly wanted me to feel better and normal. I think she could sense that I needed that.
As I tell this, I worry I’m not getting the emotion of these things across well enough, because after the stroke my literary skills are not as sharp. That said, the memory of my experience is on point. The neurology department definitely has a gem with Cami on the team.
Cami is not the only brilliant mind on the neuro team that provided me care.
I was discharged from UMMC Maryland on March 15th and was delivered home safely on March 16th. Terence and Bryan took turns driving, getting me out to stretch and get fresh air and kept driving so they could get me back home in my bed. Thank you will never be enough. I love them both so dearly.
September 11 marks an incredible day of sadness for our country, a day that reminds us of so much loss. I get emotional as I write about this part of my story, mostly because I want to make sure today is never forgotten and the lives lost on that day are always honored.
But for me now, today is also the 6-month anniversary of my stroke — the day that Southwest Airlines pilots safely delivered me to my destination and my angels in the sky Matt, Lucy, Andrea and Michelle worked together as a team to keep an entire airplane calm. They also sent me beautiful flowers after the fact. Once again, thank you will never be enough. This amazing group of people worked together as a team to keep an entire flight full of people chill during a medical emergency and that deserves huge praise.
As we remember 9/11, or as we prepare for a new day, new job, enjoy time with family and friends, celebrate another event or whatever… let’s take a moment to be thankful. Take a minute to take a deep breath. Take an opportunity to laugh or tell someone how much you appreciate and love them.
I wish this first segment of my story felt packed with more emotion because that feels more authentically me… but I’m a little different now. I’m trying to connect my dots and walk my new journey. I definitely am ready to engage and tell people where I have been and where I am going. For now, I need a little more time to put the pieces back together, and it seems like that’s a fitting message for a day like 9/11.
I won’t ever be able to personally deliver all the thank yous that need to be said. I can only start here, with this story of my ongoing fight. I’m still not able to return to work or do a lot of normal everyday things, but when I can, finding and thanking everyone involved in this event is at the top of my list. For now, I can write this story and hope each person — the ones I named and the ones whose names I never knew — sees it.
Thank you, Southwest Airlines (Matt, Lucy, Andrea and Michelle and pilots), Maryland ambulance service, University of Maryland Medical Center Neurology department and medical team, Dr. Rachael Morris (my Angel), Terence Buckley and Bryan Lewis. Thank you is not enough.
