Sorry Lord… Not Today!

So there you are, out for a hike all by yourself, trotting through the late summer pines and aspens on a sunny weekday afternoon in a local park. You pass by a stream and slow down just a bit, to take in the soothing sounds of the rippling waters cascading down a few rocks. A large boulder nearby beckons you to “sit a spell” and take it all in. You take off your backpack and set it down on the ground. You quickly glance around to see if you have company. No human company… just a small chipmunk, who swiftly darts away rather than get flattened by 170 pounds of flesh. You hop onto the rock and after a minute you close your eyes, letting your other senses take in the scenery. The smell of the fragrant trees, mixing with the sounds of the trickling water, makes your mind wander for a moment.

Most of us would think of other times where nature invaded our thoughts and we were at peace with just our surroundings to comfort us. Some would think of that time when they were staying in a rustic lodge high up in the mountains, in a park surrounded by elk and deer, and the scent of the morning mist mixed with the faint smell of bacon and eggs in a fry pan not too far away.

But for me this moment brought back a memory that wasn’t so pleasant. Looking out over the carved-out canyon beyond the stream, my brain decided to recollect that one time in my past when I almost died.

It’s funny how the brain works. Here I am in this beautiful canyon, where the sights and sounds should make me want to forget all about life’s struggles, deadlines and chores. Instead, my mind decides to take a sharp left turn and remind me that I once came within moments of not existing anymore.

It happened on a Friday morning in February of 1981. I was 32 years old at the time, unemployed, and collecting unemployment insurance. I had gotten up early, so I could drive to the unemployment office as soon as they opened at 8:30 A.M. I was living in Hazlet, New Jersey at the time and the office was in Red Bank, about a 10 mile drive from home. I looked out my bedroom window as I was dressing, only to find that we were in the midst of a terrible snowstorm. I had no choice but to make the trip because (a) I was broke, (b) my car payment was due that day, and (c) I had to get the check into my account immediately to pay it.

I bundled up, went outside, and got into my Buick Skylark, which was parked in the carport. I fastened my seatbelt and headed out. The roads were slightly snow covered, but the layer of ice below the snow was slick and made for a difficult drive. The front-wheel drive on my Skylark didn’t help either, because both the motor and transmission were located under the front hood, which put a lot of weight on the front wheels, while the rear of the car was extremely light. The car drove great on dry roads, but became a lot less manageable when driving in inclement weather.

I managed to get to the unemployment office within a reasonable time, got my check and headed for home. While driving on Route 35, I noticed that the left-hand lane was slightly cleaner and less snow-covered than the right lane, so I veered over and stayed in that lane most of the way. There was a concrete barrier in the center of the four- lane highway, which stood about four feet high. As you approached intersections, the barrier tapered down on a slope where it met the pavement and stopped before the crossroads.

There wasn’t much traffic on the road, which was a good thing, and those who were adventurous enough to travel in this horrible weather were driving rather cautiously, including me.

As I was approaching the intersection of Laurel Road, the traffic light turned red. I slowly applied my brakes, hoping that I would stop with a reasonable distance still between me and the cross street. My Buick had other plans. As I applied the brakes, the four wheels locked and my car decided to veer to the left. With just enough momentum left, the car slid up the slope of the concrete barrier, which was also covered in thick ice. The next thing I knew, the car was teetering precariously on top of the barrier. To say I was in panic mode was an understatement. I was hysterical. For the next few moments, I tried to figure the best way out of this mess. Thank God I had enough intelligence to quickly determine that since I was sitting on the left side of the car, I was adding more weight to the left side of the perfectly balanced car straddling the concrete barrier. So if I didn’t try to move over to the center, eventually gravity would take control and the car would flip over into the northbound lane of the highway. Within moments, I tried reaching for the seatbelt release button, but because of my heavy overcoat, it was hidden from view. I fumbled around and around for what seemed like eternity. I finally found the button, but after pushing it, the belt wouldn’t release. Of course, after all this thrashing around, the Buick decided it didn’t like being stable anymore. The next thing I knew was that I was upside down, smack dab in the middle of the northbound lane of Highway 35 in the freezing rain and snow, and staring down at twin beams of headlights coming towards me. I prayed!

Again, after what seemed like forever, I realized that I had one more slight problem. I was being strangled by my own seat belt. Being upside down, there was just enough gravity adding to my weight to cause the seat belt to press into my throat, in just the right way to cut off my breathing. I struggled once again to reach for the seatbelt release button, but I was so disoriented that I couldn’t figure out where it was. Just then, something amazing happened. I turned my head to the left and saw a bright light shining through the driver’s side window.

“Are you injured?” I heard a voice ask loudly. In a labored voice, I answered back, “No”. Since the car doors were locked, the state trooper told me to cover my face with my hands, so he could break the window. With the blunt end of his trusty industrial Maglite flashlight, he shattered the glass and reached in to try to open the door. After seeing my reddened face and hearing my labored breathing, he realized that my seatbelt was hindering my breathing. He quickly pulled out his tactical knife and started slicing through the taut belt. It didn’t take long for the belt to snap. The trooper quickly pulled me out of the upside down car and dragged me across the other lane of the highway, to the shoulder of the road. I was in a daze.

The next thing I saw was my tiny cobalt-blue Buick being hit by an oncoming car, which caused it to careen across the icy covered highway. That’s when I passed out.

I woke up a short while later, covered in a green army blanket, sitting in front of a portable electric heater in the barracks of the New Jersey State Troopers office… Troop D.

“Try not to talk,” Officer Banister said. ” You are very lucky that your accident occurred right in front of our barracks, or things could have turned out much differently.

My first thoughts were, of course, “Where was my car and what happened to the car that hit mine?” The trooper came over and explained everything. “I hope you don’t mind, but I had to get your wallet to find out who you are. You are fortunate to still be with us today.” He continued, “We towed your car to an impound lot and took care of the cut on your neck. Your injuries weren’t life-threatening, so we didn’t call the paramedics, but you will probably have a sore neck for a while. The driver who hit your car was okay, and his car wasn’t damaged much. We gave him your insurance information, and he said his insurance company would follow up with you later on. Can we call someone to come get you?”

My Buick was totaled. I was actually glad, because I hated that car. The insurance covered the outstanding bank loan and I had enough left over to buy my first four-wheel drive vehicle.

I am thankful that my “guardian angels” were there when I needed them most, my life was spared, and I am able to still experience the wonderful moments in life, like hiking, smelling the wonderful fragrance of pine trees, listening to babbling brooks, and perhaps saving the life of an innocent woodland chipmunk.

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