life can change (in seconds, flat)
by ina fog
covid-fog/highway hypnosis (i don’t know about that)
one thing i do know, is life can change (in seconds, flat)
_________________________
The traffic was heavy on I-85
northbound at 3:48 pm, Thursday, September 15th (which was my
parents’ anniversary). Under normal
circumstances, I would have been in the high-speed lane, but I had an
appointment for a haircut and, for whatever reason, I was in the far-right
lane… moving along at about 65 mph and keeping track of the traffic display on
my GPS. I use the GPS on my way home
(not because I don’t know where I live, but…) to get a sense of traffic
tendencies.
Moments earlier, I could have chosen to take the back-road route, but there were too many cars in the turn lane, so I chose the highway. Something seemed strange as I read “similar ETA” on the GPS, and I immediately thought that the highway route might have traffic issues.
On the interstate, the traffic was thick, but moving fast. Somewhere around Lowell, I noticed the usual conglomeration of brake-lights as pre-rush hour commuters tailgated and jockeyed for position.
Maybe Covid-fog has its advantages, because what happened next seemed like a slow-motion-movie. I remember thinking “shenanigans” as cars ahead seemed to be changing lanes erratically.
Then…
contact.
About 4
car-lengths ahead of me, cars began bouncing-off of each other in the two
left-lanes. A silver mini-van was
spinning! As I tapped my brakes and
looked in the rear-view, I knew that I couldn’t just stop… because the traffic
behind me was too close. It was like a
slow-motion Nascar crash, from the perspective of inside of the cockpit – with cars colliding with each other and
with the jersey barrier.
I’m not sure if one of the accident vehicles spun into the breakdown lane, but the mini-van ended-up sideways in the high-speed lane…coming to a stop just as I made my way through the maze. I didn’t look into the window, but caught the demolished front-end out of the corner of my eye… as a smaller, black vehicle seemed to accelerate (backwards?!) from the high-speed lane, across the highway and into the woods!
I remember thinking “Did he just bounce off of the barrier? That’s not good…” as that little black car disappeared, to the right. Simultaneously, as I’m tapping the brakes and hoping that no one on my left is going to sideswipe me, I passed through the crash scene while the two cars in front of me pulled-into the breakdown-lane. I glanced to the right, to see what had happened to the black vehicle, and realized that it had not gone into the woods. It was out-of-sight… because the drop-off at the embankment was so steep that he must have accelerated (backwards) into a deep ditch. I can only imagine how far down that car must have fallen.
In my younger days, as a first-aid teacher, I would have pulled over immediately and run-down to provide first aid, but my first instinct was to avoid being rear-ended. I also didn’t want to see the horror of what must have become of the vehicle that ended-up in the deep ditch on the right.
Both amazed and shocked that I had just driven through a crash-scene as it was happening and avoiding vehicles that were strewn about I-85, I knew that people were already calling 911 and hoped that someone would do what they could for the victims as the paramedics made their way to the scene.
It all seemed like a fog… as I made my way to my appointment with “Puff” (my haircut person). Afterwards, I stopped-off at home to retrieve my Harris Teeter passwords, since I’d promised the management I’d complete some in-store training at 5:30. I didn’t mention the accident to anyone at the store. I did text my girlfriend (when I got home from Harris Teeter). She is the one person that I’ve told about this. I think that I (sort-of) wanted to talk about it, but also felt like I was in the middle of a two-day, weird dream. I went to bed (before 8pm, again) and just woke-up at about 2:30 am. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to sleep until I wrote some of this down, so this is my way of processing some of it.
All I can think of is how fast one’s world can change. I don’t know how I feel. Just yesterday, I lost track of what day it was, and then… the dream-like accident on I-85. I hope that everyone is okay, but that’s not what I believe. For some people, life is very, very far from okay.
As I’ll try to get another hour-or-so of sleep, I’ll think of my girl… and her vulnerability… and also of her many abilities. I will ask her to be careful, on the road. If she is up to it, I’ll make it to her house tonight… or maybe see her tomorrow. I look forward to conversing, and connecting, and re-membering, and re-creating, and feeling our arms around each other.
_________________________________
martino, j. (9.16-1.2022). life changes (just like that). book 111: Love IS. © 2022 by wellnesseducation.us.
by ina fog
covid-fog/highway hypnosis (i don’t know about that)
one thing i do know, is life can change (in seconds, flat)
_________________________
Moments earlier, I could have chosen to take the back-road route, but there were too many cars in the turn lane, so I chose the highway. Something seemed strange as I read “similar ETA” on the GPS, and I immediately thought that the highway route might have traffic issues.
On the interstate, the traffic was thick, but moving fast. Somewhere around Lowell, I noticed the usual conglomeration of brake-lights as pre-rush hour commuters tailgated and jockeyed for position.
Maybe Covid-fog has its advantages, because what happened next seemed like a slow-motion-movie. I remember thinking “shenanigans” as cars ahead seemed to be changing lanes erratically.
I’m not sure if one of the accident vehicles spun into the breakdown lane, but the mini-van ended-up sideways in the high-speed lane…coming to a stop just as I made my way through the maze. I didn’t look into the window, but caught the demolished front-end out of the corner of my eye… as a smaller, black vehicle seemed to accelerate (backwards?!) from the high-speed lane, across the highway and into the woods!
I remember thinking “Did he just bounce off of the barrier? That’s not good…” as that little black car disappeared, to the right. Simultaneously, as I’m tapping the brakes and hoping that no one on my left is going to sideswipe me, I passed through the crash scene while the two cars in front of me pulled-into the breakdown-lane. I glanced to the right, to see what had happened to the black vehicle, and realized that it had not gone into the woods. It was out-of-sight… because the drop-off at the embankment was so steep that he must have accelerated (backwards) into a deep ditch. I can only imagine how far down that car must have fallen.
In my younger days, as a first-aid teacher, I would have pulled over immediately and run-down to provide first aid, but my first instinct was to avoid being rear-ended. I also didn’t want to see the horror of what must have become of the vehicle that ended-up in the deep ditch on the right.
Both amazed and shocked that I had just driven through a crash-scene as it was happening and avoiding vehicles that were strewn about I-85, I knew that people were already calling 911 and hoped that someone would do what they could for the victims as the paramedics made their way to the scene.
It all seemed like a fog… as I made my way to my appointment with “Puff” (my haircut person). Afterwards, I stopped-off at home to retrieve my Harris Teeter passwords, since I’d promised the management I’d complete some in-store training at 5:30. I didn’t mention the accident to anyone at the store. I did text my girlfriend (when I got home from Harris Teeter). She is the one person that I’ve told about this. I think that I (sort-of) wanted to talk about it, but also felt like I was in the middle of a two-day, weird dream. I went to bed (before 8pm, again) and just woke-up at about 2:30 am. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to sleep until I wrote some of this down, so this is my way of processing some of it.
All I can think of is how fast one’s world can change. I don’t know how I feel. Just yesterday, I lost track of what day it was, and then… the dream-like accident on I-85. I hope that everyone is okay, but that’s not what I believe. For some people, life is very, very far from okay.
As I’ll try to get another hour-or-so of sleep, I’ll think of my girl… and her vulnerability… and also of her many abilities. I will ask her to be careful, on the road. If she is up to it, I’ll make it to her house tonight… or maybe see her tomorrow. I look forward to conversing, and connecting, and re-membering, and re-creating, and feeling our arms around each other.
_________________________________
martino, j. (9.16-1.2022). life changes (just like that). book 111: Love IS. © 2022 by wellnesseducation.us.
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