On an ordinary Christmas Eve that turned into a night of terror for one family, a single phone call transformed shock into gratitude and fear into compassion. The call wasn’t from someone they knew—it began with a chilling confession: “Hi…you don’t know me—but I have your brother.”
Joey, a 64-year-old man living with a mental disability, was the one missing. Having worked earlier that day at the North Park Theater, he somehow stayed behind after closing time. Fear overtook him, and he fled into the bitter winter night, determined to find his way home. Instead, he became lost, wandering into a deep snowbank, disoriented and alone.
Enter Sha’Kyra Aughtry, a mother of three whose life took an unforeseen turn that night. It was her boyfriend, Trent, who first heard the faint whimpers of distress. Without hesitation, he ventured into the cold and found Joey—numb, shivering, and dangerously close to succumbing to the elements. Joey’s socks had been torn off by the ice, his pants were frozen to his legs, and plastic bag straps had fused unknowingly to his skin.
Together, Sha’Kyra and Trent brought Joey into their home. She immediately sprang into action: tightly wrapping him in warm blankets, carefully loosening the icy fabric from his body, and whispering gentle, calming words. She prepared him something warm to drink and methodically cleaned and dried his clothes, mindful of his fragile state.
In a heart-warming effort to soothe him further, she initiated a FaceTime call with Joey’s relatives. Seeing familiar faces, hearing familiar voices—his entire demeanor shifted. Fear was replaced with connection. In that fragile moment, technology became more than convenience—it became a bridge, a balm for his frozen soul.
But compassion didn’t stop there. Aware they needed help fast, Sha’Kyra turned to her community, sending out a heartfelt message that quickly moved neighbors to act. Strangers responded with shovels and blankets, clearing the snow-covered driveway and wrapping Joey once more before gently loading him into a truck. Sha’Kyra accompanied him all the way to ECMC, holding his hand and reassuring him, “No one is going to hurt you, honey.”
At the hospital, doctors delivered grim news. Joey had sustained fourth-degree frostbite, the most severe level, often involving deep tissue damage. He was immediately placed in the hospital’s burn unit, where specialists began the painstaking work of treatment.
Joey’s sister, grappling with fear and relief, later expressed what many felt—that Sha’Kyra’s love, her humanity, and her quick action were nothing short of life-saving. Without her, Joey would likely not have survived the night.
This story is a bond of love, a testimony to humanity’s capacity to act with urgency and grace. It reminds us that even in frozen darkness, a single act of kindness can bring life back—not just physically, but spiritually.