Interstate 35 is congested and I’m stuck behind a slow moving tractor trailer. Eyeing the passing lane, I realize that my economy hatchback can’t garner enough speed to safely move into the faster traffic.
I’ve made it halfway home and have about a hundred miles to go. I slow down behind the truck, keeping my eye out for an opening to pass.
Finally detecting a pause in the traffic, I turn on my blinker and make a move to the left, increasing my speed to keep pace with the cars coming up behind me.
Passing the trailer, my steering wheel stops working.
Very slowly fishtailing. Inexplicably, my windshield is turning toward the trailer of the truck.
Reality is dreamlike as I try to correct my position, but, despite my attempts, my car continues its slow slide under the trailer.
I am going under it. I brace myself for the impending smash of my windshield. Instead, a huge crash on the passenger side and my spine is wrenched to the right. My head drops down as I start spinning so fast that I’m sick.
Mistakenly believing that I wouldn’t survive the crash, a series of strange thoughts come through me.
A car crash. I die in a car crash. A strangely rational reaction, it simply feels like the answer to a long curious question. And then another odd thought, I got admitted to graduate school. I am so glad I got admitted to graduate school.
A second loud crash, this time closer, on my driver’s side as my spine now wrenches painfully in the other direction. More sickening spinning. I can’t see what is going on or who I am hitting.
A third smash and my car suddenly stops.
Still as if in a dream, I look up, perplexed that I am now still. My car is next to a guardrail on a small grassy island between northbound and southbound traffic. Smashed CD music cases litter the seats and floorboards, but the interior cab of my tiny car is still intact.
I throw off my seatbelt, open the door and run, frantically trying to get away from my car and to see who I’ve hit. A woman exits her vehicle. She falls to the ground in shock. Strangers are running toward me. They tell me I’ve only hit the trailer, no one else.
There were sirens. Then there is another crash. Then more sirens. The world is ripping apart.
I am collected by a composed man who I think is a soldier. Directed by him to sit on the bed of his pickup truck, I am now watching him speak to an officer, “Her tire flew off.” I look at him, increasingly confused. Why did my tire fly off? It was Sunday and I’d just had my car inspected on Friday. (I would later learn it was a tread separation tire defect.)
I listen to him and learn that I’d gone under the trailer, but was thrown back out by an impact with its rear tires. Spinning down the freeway, my car was facing backwards into oncoming traffic when it made the second impact, this time on my driver’s side. That threw me off the road and into the third impact with a guard rail.
Traffic had come to a complete stop. Emergency services arrived. Then a second accident a few cars back. The second accident was tragic.*
It took me five years to finally drive on an interstate again, but a residual anger remained. I had been self righteous about my car maintenance and was angry that such measures did not prevent the accident.
Last year, I started driving on the interstate again. First making tentative trips back and forth to visit my sister in her new home in San Antonio. Gaining confidence, I finally drove to Dallas/Fort Worth, retracing the route of the original accident. Then a more ambitious cross country trip to Michigan and a solitary journey through Utah and to the Grand Canyon.
I am very excited about my trip to the Arctic. I believe I am a safe and responsible driver, but, honestly, am still extremely defensive about it.
Maybe it is a part of my stair step method out of fearfulness, but I believe my desire to understand my own auto mechanics is an outgrowth of the accident.
I am not so naïve as to think that with enough planning, education, or caution that any of us can avoid tragedy. But, I think, like everyone, I am trying to strike a healthy balance between a greater self reliance, a continued acceptance of others’ help and expertise, and, hopefully, a radical acquiescence to our unexpected experiences, both wondrous and terrible.
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Countup: 28 days of sobriety
Countdown: 130 days until I move into my RV.
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*After emergency services arrived for my accident, an intoxicated driver failed to yield to the stopped traffic, causing a second accident at the scene. The driver was deemed at fault and our accidents were considered unrelated, so the families were unable to make a claim against the tire manufacturer. .
(I’ve heard many times that it was not my fault,so I am not soliciting that comment from you. I just thought I should clarify what happened and answer the questions I usually get.) . .
12 Comments
Oh my!! I have been in a few vehicle accidents myself (one huge one this summer on the way down here to Texas). You never forget the details of them because, as you stated, those moments are truly dreamlike. It’s almost as if everything goes in slow motion when in reality things are spinning and squealing out of control!
Kudos to you for having the courage to get back on the interstate again. I have several people in my family that will not drive any highway/freeway of any sort (they have never even tried). It’s important to get over that fear. And I truly believe that you are much safer on any interstate than you are on some of these everyday streets.
I think you are going to be surprised on just how much you will take away from this auto mechanics course you will be taking. It will be fun! I can’t wait to hear all about it.
Have an excellent day!
Angie
P.S. I like GypsySouls comment yesterday. It all ties in with the book that you and I spoke of and also the Dec 18th post that Japhy made on myshrinkinglife.com <3
You are a survivor Jennifer. There is a reason for it. I’m glad that you’re not satisfied only to survive but are creating new joy, adventures and experiences for yourself with your trip to the Arctic.
I like James’s comment yesterday. These things are coming up again to give you another opportunity to heal and release them. When the clutter is cleared out you can more easily receive the goodness of experiences in the present.
Wow. Amazing. You really should be writing a memoir. It would be so much more interesting than Sarah What’s Her Name’s!
It’s nice to be smart. But even better to be lucky.
Hell, we’re all just inches from the ultimate every time we get on the road. People zipping by with nothing to actually stop them from running right into you but the habits of a lifetime.
It doesn’t pay to think about it too much.
Ever try to do something even mildly complex while actually thinking about all the amazing steps involved? You might get away with it, but it’s a good way for me to end up with a tennis racket up my ass.
At some point, god help us, we just have to trust ourselves to get on with it. There’s other fish to fry.
Meanwhile, back on the Rig Hunt, don’t be disappointed that the first thing you thought of didn’t work out. With apologies to Yogi Berra, this Opera ain’t over even AFTER the fat lady sings. Melodrama comes in multiple acts:
I. You have to find something that you are comfortable driving. This usually gets the fat lady singing pretty quick.
II. You have to find something you can see yourself living in. That’s a smaller universe. But the fat gal is still screeching.
III. You have to find something you can afford. Uh oh. Believe it or not, that’s still lots of choices, even if they are not new.
Okay. So you find something that you can drive, can live in, and can afford. In that order. So you buy it. But the old gal STILL won’t shut up. So there must be more:
IV. You start customizing your rig with toys and tools and tires and trappings. And repairs. About a year in, you may actually begin getting comfortable. O, there’s bound to be a few high C notes erupting in the middle distance somewhere, but at least Brunnehilda’s waddled off into another room. And you can close the door.
Whew! Opera is complicated.
Bob
I truly believe that everything happens for a reason, even awful stuff like this. I’m so sorry, and am glad you survived. I can’t imagine. Hope you got a fat settlement out of that tire flaw because you deserve it.
Once I was in a wreck with a deer while riding my motorcycle. I was really pissed for a long time, that damn deer wrecked my life and my body. But after a while, I realized, no, it was the best thing that ever happened to me. Many positive changes I’ve made in my life happened because that deer woke me up from a slumber of immortality, and made me really understand how short life truly is. So every day, I thank that damn deer, and make the most of what I’ve got.
Wow. Just plain wow. You are very fortunate to have survived that accident. They happen, and they happen a lot. We we walk away from them, there is nothing else other than being thankful.
The universe tends to unfold exactly as it should.
I love reading your stories.
:0)
Congrats on your 28 days! Keep sharing here, it seems to be working and I so understand about trying to shut your brain off.
Wow…I kept waiting for you to type ‘…and then I woke up’. Is it appropriate to use profanity? HOly crap, Jennifer – I’m so glad you are ok! Accidents are scary, especially when you spin.
I know you talked about just recently getting back on the interstate and I’m sure now you are telling yourself all kinds of reasons to not get back on the interstate…get back on there. The sooner you are able to do it, comfortably, the better. The less time the ‘fear monster’ has to make this fear bigger. BTW, congrats on your continued sobriety as well…a time like this – oh boy…
I’m gonna warn ya…this response might get long. Mechanics. I hate ‘em and we can’t live without ‘em. I am a woman and I chose a job many years ago at a car place…I wanted to learn as much as I could. I figured hands on would be the best way. The timing of that job was wonderful cuz the guys I worked with, for the most part, were great. Once they realized I was serious about learning, they taught me pretty much everything I wanted to know. On slow days we took apart different things on my car and sometimes theirs so I could learn different stuff. I have a whole lot more to learn but what I do know, helps me a lot. I have caught places taking short cuts, trying to weasel me into buying services I didn’t need, charging double or triple prices on parts and adding crazy hours for labor. The worst part of my job was the fact that it was dependent on what I ’sold’ to the consumer – commissions. I was basically taught to take advantage of old ladies, gullible guys, women who didn’t know anything, people who couldn’t speak english well and anyone else I could convince to shell out extra bucks. I made a killing in my first year. My monthly bonus checks were awesome. It was addicting. I pushed more services, I scammed and lied and did whatever I had to do to get someone to pay more. Until one day I sold several different services to an old lady and I saw her counting her money and I read her lips saying ‘this is rent, this is electric…’ and so on. I walked in the back room and said to one of the guys ‘this whole thing is a damn scam!’. They wanted to high fived me cuz I had the highest sales that day. I was utterly disgusted and I walked back out there and finished the car with the basic service that she wanted. When I called her up, I told her there was a mistake and all she needed was an oil change. I rang her charge free and told her we were sorry for making her wait so long. She left confused but happy and I quit two weeks later. Now I’m not saying all mechanics are like that but it sure seems that way sometimes. A lot of those tire places work on a commissions. I’ve peeked over counters looking for the commission sheets. You wouldn’t believe how quick managers yank that sheet out of my view when I make comments on it. Ahh…I’m rambling. I despise mechanics…
Here’s a factoid for everyone. Did you know that tire places that put brand new tires on your car – could really be several years old…? Look at the number on the tire and you will see the year it was manufactured and you can see how ‘old’ it really is. Look for the DOT on your tire. It should be DOT with usually 12 additional letters/numbers. Look at the last four. For example: 4903 – first two numbers indicate the week the tires were made and the last two indicate the year. So 4903 – 49th week of the year and in 2003. Also check to see if all four tires were made at the same time…you would be suprised. On a new/used RV make sure your tires are less than 5 years old!
Kari
Yeah. I don’t know how to actually fix things on cars, nor do I care to learn — being good at it is a hard-earned skill and spending the time on it wouldn’t be worth it. But I’m very serious about my tires.
I buy expensive, good tires, and know exactly the brand and model and size I want when I walk into the store. I check the treadwear regularly. When traveling, and thus driving long distances at highway speed, I check the pressure every single day before I start driving, when the tires are cold. I visually inspect them looking for damage if I have any reason to suspect that there could be some, like if I hit a pothole.
The thing that I don’t think people think about enough — until they are in an accident — is that driving a car is one of the most dangerous things you will probably EVER do. It’s worth concentrating on doing it well, and it should never be taken lightly. You obviously already know this, so you’re in good shape.
Good advice Kari, I was thinking the same thing about the tires. A guy at a campsite showed me that last summer. I had no idea!
Jennifer, wow.
Again, another story that rivets me to my seat thinking that you are either talking in third person or having a dream.
Being in the Insurance Industry, I can honestly say that car accidents are not something you get over quickly.
I have spoken to many people that had recently had an accident, some were fender benders and some not. I will never forget some of them, like the gal that was driving the large pickup truck in the Rocky Mountains in winter, she came around a curve and this car was in the middle of her lane as she rounded the corner. She survived accidents with seatbelt rash, but the elderly couple in the other vehicle tragically did not survive. We will never know why they were in the middle of her lane. But she was pretty shaken up. She felt as though, no matter what, she killed them. I think she is still in therapy.
Then there was the gentle old man that merely was trying to get from his doctor’s office home one day and was met with a child chasing a ball through parked cars. Again, this one didn’t end up well, for either party.
I had never seen a grown man cry until that day.
Although this one isn’t really an accident (because of the tire issue), it’s not a purpose either. We have to remember those guardian angels on our shoulder that seem to guide us through life’s perils and makes us stronger.
Have a great Christmas hun, and congrats on your sobriety!!!
Oh my I am so glad you were not seriously hurt in the accident. How scary!! Hope you have a good Christmas and best wishes for 2010! I really enjoy reading your blog.
wow what an awesome blog a true realist that has vision im speachless not the rv the whole story wow what an adventure im also a fellow rv i wil keep up with ur blog and soberity is cool to keep it up