IT seemed as though Jeremy’s 6-foot-4,
220-pound stature correlated with the
size of his heart. This is anatomically
incorrect, of course, but we do know
his heart carried the capacity to love an
entire town and all 14 million-plus beachgoers
he watched over since the day he took the stand.
If Ocean Rescue were just a job, maybe the
load would have been lighter. But as Proffitt says,
saving lives was his life.
“Most of us, we see things along the side of
the road, but we don’t have to be there holding
that person as they die,” Debbie says. “There are
many factors that can affect our thinking, from
a healthy gut to our brain chemistry. We have
really got to pay attention to our brain health. He
struggled for a variety of reasons. Jeremy battled
cumulative stress from his occupation similar to
PTSD. Depending on what doctor you see, some
will say it is depression, some will say it’s anxiety.”
Baker served side-by-side with Jeremy for
15 years.
“The things we hear when we’re working on
people — screaming and yelling and crying —
those things carry with you,” he says. “Jeremy
and I made some really gnarly recoveries over
the years I would never want anyone else to
experience. Those things compile. Some take
forever to get over.”
From top to bottom: Jeremy Owens patrols Wrightsville Beach in September 2004. Jeremy, right, and Ocean Rescue director Dave Baker
share a laugh with a lifeguard before conducting tryouts in April 2012. Jeremy demonstrates a jet ski rescue with a camp participant during
the 2018 Junior Lifeguard Program.
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WBM january 2021
ALLISON POTTER ALLISON POTTER
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