Seventeen bikers saved my dying son on the highway, while everyone else just filmed his crisis 😱😱😱.

My ten-year-old son, Jackson, was convulsing on the burning asphalt after a bike fall. Instead of helping us, passersby took out their phones, filming the scene for social media, while I screamed for them to call the police 😱.

Cars were honking, ordering us to move aside. Some drivers yelled at us, saying we were blocking traffic, and one man even threatened to run us over if we didn’t move.

Then, I heard the roar of motorcycles. These strangers in leather formed a wall around us, their bikes creating a barrier between my child and the passersby, who were more concerned with their journey than with the life of a child.

Jackson’s crisis had come on suddenly. One minute, he was riding calmly, and the next, he had fallen, his body rigid and trembling.

I couldn’t lift him and keep his head steady at the same time, unable to protect him from the cars. I was shouting, asking for help, but most drivers just kept driving without stopping. A few were filming, indifferent to the situation.

But what happened next left everyone in shock 😱😱😱.

👉 The full story awaits you in the first comment 👇👇👇👇.

Then, I heard the engines. A group of bikers stopped in formation. An imposing man with a white beard, the leader, got off his Harley and knelt down next to Jackson. “I’m a paramedic,” he said, taking his pulse. “How long has he been convulsing?”

“Three or four minutes,” I replied, exhausted. “The police said it would take them fifteen minutes.”

“Not fast enough,” he replied, worried.

The biker with the white beard didn’t waste any time. He took a first aid kit from his bag and instructed the other bikers to secure the surrounding area. The sound of the engines roaring behind them had finally scared off the crowd of onlookers, who were too busy filming. But these men weren’t here to watch, they were here to act.

“I’ll stabilize him,” he said calmly. He took Jackson in his arms with surprising gentleness, despite his imposing build. In an instant, he applied first aid techniques, all while maintaining reassuring contact with my son, speaking to him softly.

Another, younger, biker took out his phone and called the police to ensure that medical help would arrive quickly. In the meantime, the leader continued to monitor Jackson’s vital signs, his face serious and focused. “He needs to be transported to the hospital immediately,” he said, looking up at me. “Hang in there, we’re going to save him.”

The minutes felt like an eternity, but thanks to their quick and professional intervention, Jackson was able to be taken over by the emergency services before the situation became too critical.