Part 1: The Wreck

There are a handful of moments in our lives that change its course. Most times these are positive events – in retrospect, if not at the time of their occurrence. If we’re lucky enough, we are cognizant of them in the midst of their happening or in the moments immediately following.

I had one such event occur a little over a month ago on Saturday June 8^th in the middle of really one of the worst weeks of my life.

Wednesday, my family got word that our 12 year old cousin had passed away. The next day as we waited to hear about the funeral arrangements, my aunt called to tell us that our Granny (my dad’s grandma) had taken a turn for the worse. Friday, she called again and said they didn’t think Granny was going to make it through the night. She did. By then, the funeral arrangements had been made, and we were heading to Georgia and stopping by to say our goodbyes to Granny on the way.

Well…we didn’t get too far. About 3 miles South of Paducah, Kentucky to be exact. This is where we got hit with something else. I had just been dealt a personal sucker punch and was crying and talking about that with my parents when everything got thrown into a weird mix of fast-forward and slow motion.

I had been reading and stopped for a few minutes to check my Facebook (cue sucker punch) so I hadn’t been paying much attention to where we were or what was going on. However, somewhere in the back of my mind, it registered that we had slowed down. I figured construction and/or a traffic jam. It was both. Traffic stopped suddenly and my dad had to slam on the breaks, even though we were already going pretty slowly, to avoid rear-ending the car in front of us.

We stopped in time and had a second to breathe a sign of relief. My Dad and I both looked back to make sure no one was coming up behind us; he in his rearview mirror, and I by physically turning my upper body to see out of the back window. I always do this, as both a drive and a passenger because I like to know what’s coming.

The relief we experienced didn’t last long.

We looked back at the same time and saw a huge black truck coming in hot – straight at us at about 60 mph. I saw when he realized traffic was stopped and slam on his breaks before I quickly turned back around to face forward and my dad hollered out to us, “Brace yourselves. He’s gonna hit us!”

But it was already too late. He hit us at about 55 mph with us at a complete stop.

Everything happened so quickly. From the time we stopped to the moment of impact probably only lasted 10-15 seconds.

The sound of any crash is awful, but I’ve never heard anything like this one. Maybe because I was in it and so close to it since the truck bed was crunching and smashing directly behind me from the force of the GMC that rammed into us.

Stuff flew everywhere in the cab of our Ford F150. You know those scenes in movies or TV shows when the hero or heroine is involved in an accident and flip their car? They always let the other car be seen in real time, coming in fast toward the hero/heroine’s car, but they slow down the impact, the flip. The things, including and especially the people are floating weightlessly through the car for a few seconds in slow motion before they are put back in real time and are snapped back by their seat belts or are thrown from the car. Reality snaps into focus with the blink of an eye and then things move into fast -forward because people are rushing, rushing to see what happened and if everyone is all right. That is exactly how those few seconds happened for me.

I saw my dog Cooper laying on the center console between my parents in the front seat one second and the next – he wasn’t there anymore. Books, phones, cookies and donuts we had stopped to get from the bakery in West Frankfort: everything was suspended in the air until it smashed into something to stop its flight.

I saw my mom shoot forward at the impact, jerk as her seat belt caught, swing to the side, and smash her head against the window of her door. I’m not sure if I really heard her head hit the window or if I only imagined how it sounded, but I saw it – that much I know for sure. There was too much noise and chaos to know for sure. Real or imagined though, it was a horrifying sound I hope to never hear again.

I saw my Dad brace both hands on the wheel and concentrate on avoiding, once again, hitting the car in front of us. I didn’t spend much time worrying about this because 1) I trust him and his judgment implicitly, without question, and 2) it was out of our control at that point.

I fisted my hands, tucked my elbows, and put my body in a quasi-fetal position. The thought that crossed my mind in those seconds of impact were that if we were going to die I was glad I had written and given them letters telling them how much I love them, and how grateful I am for everything they’ve done and do for me, everything they’ve taught me. If we were or I was going to die, at least they’d know how much I love them.

I screamed as we were hit. Then it was over.