Lyme & Old Lyme Neighbors Magazine

October 2025

LYME AMBULANCE ASSOCIATION
Answering the Call

By Cameron Cooke, Photos By Devlin Photography

Fifty years ago, if someone in Lyme, Connecticut needed to get to the hospital, there was no 911, no EMTs on standby, not even an ambulance in town. It was neighbor helping neighbors, improvising with whatever car or truck was available, and a phone call to one of five women who knew just who to call, and when the whistle blew at the Hadlyme station, anyone within earshot would drop what they were doing and head off to help. That’s how Lyme Ambulance began in 1975: not with a fleet of high-tech vehicles, but with an old Cadillac hearse and a community determined to look after its own.

A lot has changed since 1975. With the help of John Yeomans and Chuck Jewett, and a donation from Mrs. Roosevelt Thompson they were incorporated as a nonprofit in 1976 and steadily developed into a vital, well-equipped, state licensed EMS provider. Over the decades, the generosity of Lyme’s residents— many of whom donate both funds and time-ensured that whenever new equipment was needed, someone would step up. For years, Lyme Ambulance enjoyed a steady, experienced volunteer crew and a “bubble” of self-sufficiency that kept the organization running smoothly, while the rest of the world changed around them.

But as Chief Steve Olstein explains, even the tightest-knit teams eventually face new realities. “Responders started aging out, and it’s not as easy to replace them” he says, and even mechanized equipment which extended careers couldn’t hold back the clock forever. Volunteerism itself began to look different, too; people’s lives and schedules changed, and fewer were able to make the commitment. The old model, where you could always count on a big group of neighbors to show up, just doesn’t work anymore.

Lyme Ambulance has responded to these changes with the same resourcefulness that marked its beginning. At first, they didn’t even bill insurance, preferring to spare residents any extra financial burden. But as technology improved and costs rose, they chose to bill Insurance rather than asking more of their donors or needing support from the town. Still, the service relies primarily on volunteers, and that’s where the true challenge lies.

According to Ariana Eaton, Deputy Chief and Recruitment Officer, Lyme Ambulance has 28 weekly slots to fill, but only 12 dedicated volunteers regularly covering them.

“Our volunteers are our biggest asset — they are incredible. Some take three or four shifts per week but that can’t go on forever. It’s a workload that’s simply unsustainable, no matter how committed the team”.

Ideally, the organization would have at least 20 volunteer responders, but recruiting them is an uphill battle. The reasons are many: the time commitment, the perception that EMS work is gory or the responsibility overwhelming, and the simple reality that Lyme is a small town with only 2,400 residents.

Olstein, Deputy Chief Ariana Eaton, and the team have worked hard to remove as many barriers as possible. All the training is provided, schedules are flexible, and the team culture is welcoming. “We’ve adapted almost everything to eliminate every objection,” he says. The job itself isn’t what you see on TV dramas. Lyme Ambulance offers basic life support — not advanced paramedic care — so you won’t be performing dramatic hospital interventions. Instead, the focus is on getting to a scene quickly, stabilizing the patient, and getting them safely to the hospital. The most important skills are recognizing the difference between “sick and not sick” and making calm, practical decisions. Training begins with observing and riding along, moving up through stages until a volunteer is confident enough to take the lead. “You’re never on your own and you won’t be in the lead until you’re ready, there’s always a team to support you,” says Eaton.

Volunteering with Lyme Ambulance might seem demanding, but it’s also uniquely rewarding. What’s common is the experience of arriving on a scene where people are anxious or worried and being able to say, even without words, “We’ve got this.” That calm assurance is often the most valuable thing you can give. You see the impact immediately.

Lyme is a big town geographically and Lyme EMS has developed a unique protocol to reach the patient as quickly as possible. Unlike many other towns, Lyme pairs responders from the north and south, allowing responders to be home while on duty. And what about the blood and guts often associated with emergency medical work? Olstein reassures that “ninety-eight percent of the time, there’s no blood, no guts.” Most calls are for falls, illnesses, or minor injuries. If a truly critical situation arises, a paramedic is dispatched simultaneously and usually arrives soon after. The high-pressure scenarios you see on TV are not the daily reality. “You’re not the ER doctor,” Olstein explains. “You look at the person: sick or not sick. If they’re sick, you figure out what they need right now and get them to an ER, where they can get more help.”

Perhaps the biggest misconception is that volunteers need to have medical expertise to contribute. For many, especially those retiring from other careers, EMS offers the kind of real-world impact and satisfaction of knowing you’ve helped someone that’s rare elsewhere. People from all walks of life volunteer at Lyme Ambulance. Retirees, part-time workers, parents whose kids have flown the nest have all found their place in the team. Some volunteers are retired nurses, but others are former business professionals, fulfilling “next chapter.” Olstein describes the ideal volunteer as “somebody who’s looking for that next challenge in life.”

The organization provides all the training you need. As Lyme Ambulance navigates its future, one thing is clear: the community’s involvement is more crucial than ever. The service not only provides emergency medical response, transport and education but also serves as a lifeline for the town, fostering a sense of unity and support. The call for volunteers is not just a plea for help; it’s an invitation to be part of something greater–something that makes a tangible difference in the community and in the lives of our neighbors.