The police scanner in the newsroom bleeped and squawked. A Waterville dispatcher directed officers to Head of Falls, where a caller reported someone had gone into the river.

It was Monday night, dusk, and cold outside as cruisers entered Front Street and headed east to the Two Cent Bridge.

I had been about to take my supper break, but instead grabbed my notebook, left the office and hiked the short distance to Head of Falls on the Kennebec River.

Three cruisers were parked near the bridge and a fire rescue truck, lights flashing, was pulling in, but I saw no officers.

Then from the south, police Sgt. Alden Weigelt emerged from a path that dips into the wooded area along the river. He was talking on his portable radio.

An intoxicated man had fallen into the river and two others, in an attempt to rescue him, also had gone in. Fortunately, all three were rescued.

“We’ve got snow and freezing rain coming,” Weigelt said. “The temperature right now is ideal for hypothermia if you’re dry, let alone if you’re wet.”

He and the firefighters headed back into the woods as he filled them in on what they were dealing with. Other police officers were already at the scene.

We walked quickly along a path leading to a level area shrouded with trees where homeless people come to eat, drink and sleep. The ground is worn and a patch of dirt dips down and drops off into the river.

Three men, so intoxicated it was difficult to understand them, were cold, wet and unable to walk on their own.

A police officer led one of the men who was shirtless with pants sopping wet up the path toward where a Delta Ambulance was waiting. He was breathing hard and groaning with each step.

A folding chair was on its back where one of the men had fallen backward in the chair and tumbled into the river. A man was sitting under the trees, drenched from head to toe and speaking unintelligibly. An officer helped him to his feet and guided him stumbling up the path.

Another man was huddled in a dirty sleeping bag perched perilously close to the water. A few feet away, a near-empty bottle of Allen’s Coffee Flavored Brandy lay in the dirt beside an unopened half-gallon of milk. Police coaxed the man out of his sleeping bag and escorted him out.

Officer Rob Bouley said when he arrived, one man was completely in the river and another was clinging to a stump on the bank with his lower extremities in the water. Bouley hauled the first man out and then helped the second.

Weigelt said that if one of the men had not had a cellphone with which to call for help, all three might have perished.

“I think we’ve had a tragedy averted. It’s just by the grace of God one had a cellphone.”

It was 35 degrees outside. With the wind chill, it was 31. That, the cold water temperature and the fact that the men were intoxicated made for a dangerous combination, according to Weigelt.

“The bitter part of this is, hypothermia makes you sleepy and so does drinking. You go to sleep and if you don’t warm up, you die.”

Up at the bridge, rescue workers helped the men out of their wet clothes and into the ambulance, where they were wrapped in warm blankets before being taken to the hospital.

An experienced, compassionate cop who has seen a lot in his career, Weigelt also has a history in the city. He recalled stories carried down through his family by word of mouth about homeless people, including soldiers, coming into Waterville on the trains and living along the riverbank many years ago. His relatives would hand out meals to them from their back door on Winter Street.

As we spoke, I remembered Waterville resident Peter Joseph, who died in 2014, telling me about growing up on Front Street where his family owned Joseph’s Market and where the homeless people would come up from the river and railroad tracks. The Josephs always gave them something to eat.

The riverbank still is a popular place for the homeless, from south of the Two Cent Bridge north to the railroad terminal, according to Weigelt. They have been living along the river for more than 100 years.

“It’s a social issue with a lot of history — that’s still an issue,” he said.

He and the other police officers, as well as the firefighters, were respectful of the men they rescued Monday, patiently explaining that they were in danger and must be taken where it was dry and warm.

With a firm grip and casting no judgment, they led them out of the woods to safety, just like angels of mercy.

Amy Calder has been a Morning Sentinel reporter for 28 years. Her column appears here Mondays. She may be reached at acalder@centralmaine.com. For previous Reporting Aside columns, go to centralmaine.com.