LAKE ASBURY – Firefighters and emergency rescuers stood stoically in a line Wednesday, waiting for 17-month-old miracle Baby Vianca to finally return home after spending more than two months at the hospital and a rehabilitation center.

Their job conditioned them to be accustomed to expecting the worst of the human condition. They’ve seen death and despair. They’ve experienced levels of grief and anguish that most can’t understand. No matter how hard they try to bury their emotions beneath their bravado, there is no way to escape the reality of real-life tragedy.

And yet some flinched and their knees buckled when the little girl, who became the emotional beacon for their department, arrived. Baby Vianca gave them hope that good things can evolve from bad circumstances.

In an unsuspecting, unexplainable and undoubtedly incredible turn of events, Baby Vianca not only defied scientific and medical reasoning for surviving being trapped underwater for more than 13 minutes in the mouth of the Black Creek at the St. Johns River, but she also became a uniting force throughout the Clay County Fire Rescue.

It started on Aug. 25 when CCFR responded to a capsized boat near the Black Creek Marina. A small pontoon boat quickly decelerated, which caused the nose to dip into the water and flip back-over-front. Four adults were thrown into the water, but 15-month-old Vianca, who was wearing a life jacket, was trapped under the boat.

The pontoon had a railing and no air pockets, which made it more difficult to escape. Workers at the marina raced to the scene, and one entered the water without success to find Vianca.

Lt. Thomas Gill was working overtime with a different department and was returning from another call when he heard about the capsized boat. Lt. Joe Hutchins was off duty and returning from church when he heard the call. Both were on U.S. Highway 17 at the entrance to the Black Creek Marina when they listened to the call, and they immediately turned in.

They ran onto the dock, where they saw a father and son, Weston and Ryan Daw, who were about to go shrimping. They eagerly asked them to take them to the accident scene.

By the time Gill and Hutchins arrived, three men – Joseph Bianco, Dwight McVey and Jay Oppenborn – left the Black Creek Marina to try to find the girl. McVey dove into the creek several times unsuccessfully to find her while the other two men tried to console the adults on the capsized pontoon boat.

Exhaustion forced McVey to suspend his desperate search. The three men from the marina then huddled on the boat.

“We did all we could do, so we started praying,” Bianco said.

Gill quickly removed his wallet and cellphone when they arrived and jumped into the water. Hutchins said he was gone for what seemed like hours. So long, command on shore sent out a bulletin nobody wanted to hear: “Fireman down.”

Suddenly, the limp, lifeless body of Baby Vianca emerged from the black, brackish water. Hutchins grabbed the baby; Ryan then grabbed exhausted Gill, who was seconds from passing out and drowning.

“I wasn’t coming up without her,” Gill said.

Hutchins started compressions the moment he had Baby Vianca in his arms. He didn’t stop until he passed her off to fellow CCFR personnel on the shore.

Ryan helped squeeze water out of Gill. The fireman, who wasn’t trained in water rescue, was so sickened that he was transported to Baptist Medical Center Clay along with Baby Vianca.

Once inside the rescue squad, Engineer Ryan Rhodes continued compressions on the girl while Engineer James Conomea concentrated on the airway. None were assigned to the rescue squad vehicle, but things were happening so fluidly that Chief Billy Futch Jr. ordered immediate dispatch. Hutchins, who was off duty, wound up driving.

“She was gray and non-responsive,” Conomea said. “But on the way there, she suddenly opened her eyes and moved her arms. I’ve never seen that before. There was a purposeful arm movement, which is a sign there’s some brain activity. I’ve never forgotten that. I mean, that doesn’t happen. Suddenly, her eyes were open, and she started getting her color back.”

Baby Vianca was transferred to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit at Wolfson Children's Hospital in Jacksonville. Doctors there warned the parents not to hold much hope for her survival. At first, the prognosis was to warn them about brain damage. Weeks later, she was jumping and playing.

Much like surviving 13 minutes underwater, Baby Vianca continues to defy reasoning. So little to be so empowering, firefighters, family and neighbors clambered to be near the home for her arrival. There were tears and signs of joy, confetti and balloons.

Baby Vianca giggled, smiled and squinted. Too young to understand, nothing else about her young life has followed course.

Lt. Chris Hammock, one of the firemen there Wednesday, is one of the agency’s Peer Support representatives. His job is to decompress firemen and rescuers after difficult calls. He was in charge after the Baby Vianca rescue.

He said what made the counseling session especially difficult was the fact Vianca was resuscitated. That rarely happens, adding another layer of anguish to the responders involved.

“This was very, very different. Anytime it involves a child, it's always critical for the peer support to meet with the people that took care of the kid afterward, so they can get stuff off their chest and destress,” Hammock said. “We get hundreds of children calls a year because they often don't know how to swim or they're overstepping their ability. Their confidence exceeds their ability. And so, whenever the call came out for child drowning, of course, that's something that we as the peer support team keep on the radar tabs of and then we go, and we visit with the crew afterward so that they can debrief and kind of distress from the incident.

“This one was so unusual because this was 1-in-10,000, and we got her back. Also, being in the river and on a boat completely differs from what we usually deal with. We deal with swimming pools, bathtubs and things of that nature. And to know one of our guys was injured during the save, we needed to get out there to do our peer support for the other crews and the injured firefighters.”

Hammock said Baby Vianca provided CCFR with a unique opportunity to provide closure to firefighters who compartmentalize their work anxiety.

“This hardly ever happens,” he said. ”The closure and healing these guys get from seeing the person they've saved come home and be alive and well, it's actually very healing.”

The father held Baby Vianca and embraced Hutchins before entering the house. He wiped tears and mumbled, “Thank you. You’re heroes.”

Lt. Gill was working on Wednesday and couldn’t attend. Duty always comes first.

Vianca’s mother asked Hutchins to say what he wanted her to replay for her daughter decades from now. The fireman said, “We love you. We will always be there for you.”

As the firefighters left the house, they turned back to the family and said, “Remember, we’re a phone call away.”

And they didn’t mean 911.