Wednesday, May 2, 2007

A Scrape With Death

Alba totaled the Honda today. She's okay and so are the people who hit her. Thank God for that.

It was Alba's faught...mostly. She was driving west into the late afternoon sun. As she was approaching the intersection, she saw the light was green. But because of the sun, she couldn't see the light as she got closer to the intersection. She assumed that it would stay green...but as lights are wont to do, it switched to yellow...then red...then Alba flies into the intersection not realizing it had changed.

Unfortunately, the cross traffic was already moving through the intersection and she got hit on the driver's side. Both doors were severely smashed in. The back tire's flat. The car's a total loss.

But fortunately, Alba's okay. Unharmed. A bit shaken up, though. I think I would be, too. Imagine looking out your left window at a car fast approaching you. It's like looking into the face of death.

I almost died once. (Well, more than once, but I'm telling about this one incident.) I was in college in Springfield, MO at the time. I lived in a neighborhood with a railroad crossing, and I'd always cross over it on my way to school. There were no lights at this particular crossing--it was a small neighborhood street--and there was almost never a train that passed through there.

Except one day there was a train.

And it just so happened to be crossing my road the moment I was planning to cross its tracks. I usually slowed down to check that all was clear, but on this particular morning, I was late...and in a hurry. There was a building that obscured the view to the south. You had to get real close to the tracks to see around it.

Well I did get close to the tracks that day...going almost 40 mph on a residential street. And just as I cleared the building and could see to the south, there was a train RIGHT THERE!!

I slammed on my brakes and skidded about 20 feet or so and stopped about 20 feet or so in front of the tracks...just as the train passed right in front of me.

I looked into the face of death that day. I also looked into the face of the train engineer who was shaking his head and wagging his finger at me.

I don't know what it is with me and close calls. But every time they happen...once the initial moment of absolute terror has coursed through my veins...I think it's funny! I was cracking up all the way to the music store where I was scheduled to give a lesson. I almost died so I could trim five minutes off my trip to a lesson...and I was busting a gut!

This has happened several times. I won't go into all the close calls on L.A.'s freeways. There's just too many of them, and most of them are forgotten. When I was working as a computer tech, it was almost a daily occurance. I had to drive so much, there was always a car changing lanes, clipping me off. Or the traffic unexpectedly stopped. Or the big piece of debris in the road. One time this bucket few out of the back of a truck, bounced on the road in front of me, and headed straight for my windsheild. I swerved to miss it without even checking the other lane. Fortunately, no one was there.

After a while, it stopped being funny. But then I stopped getting the shots of adrenaline, too. Just like it was a daily automatic reaction to whatever potentially deadly thing the road threw at me. I didn't even react emotionally, I just reacted.

And over the course of four years driving the L.A. freeways, I never got into an accident...accept once...and it wasn't my faught...and ironically, I was at a dead stop on the freeway. I had been stopped for almost a minute when this truck plows into my rear bumper. I didn't even know what happened. Suddenly I'm thrust forward, my head rolls back and I'm looking straight up at the ceiling of my car wondering why I'm doing that, then I'm looking straight down at my crotch, then straight ahead again--all in less than a second.

I won't go into all the details of this story. I'll just point out that the bastard took off and I was stuck with a totaled car I had to replace. And a sore neck for the next few days.

One more story before I sign off: (This one I remember because I definitely had an emotional reaction!)

I was driving on the 210 in Pasadena, during the late afternoon a few years ago. I was cruising about 80 when suddenly, the whole freeway started slowing to a craw. The 18 wheeler in the lane next to me slams on his brakes and he starts skidding down the freeway. His trailer starts jackknifing--and moving into my lane! So I slam on my brakes harder to get behind this guy. He has a lot more momentum than I do.

Meanwhile, black acrid smoke is screaching off his tires right into my windshield and obscuring the whole scene. Fortunately, he doesn't hit anyone...and I stay well behind. Apparently, an accident has just happened up ahead, and that's why the traffic slowed down so suddenly. I don't don't know for sure because I couldn't see it. But I move over and get off at the next exit to bypass whatever stopped the traffic.

All it takes is a split second to separate your spirit from your body. Everyday, people are killed on L.A.'s freeways. But I'm still here because of the grace of God. I almost died at birth because the umbilical cord was wrapped around my neck. I almost died as a child from a severe allergic reaction to a red wasp sting--another few minutes getting to the hospital and I'd have been a goner. And as an adult, I've had more close calls than I care to remember.

But I'm still here.

And thank God Alba is, too.

Let's hope we're both around for a long time to come!

The Stan

P.S. I'll post my culinary adventure tomorrow!

4 comments:

Shelley said...

Close calls make for some good stories. Why don't you tell the story of your close call with molestation as a young lad?

Seth Ward said...

Didn't you almost die one time becase your penis shrank so small that it began to have a "black hole" affect on your other organs?

The Stan said...

If you remember your astrophysics, Seth, only incredibly MASSIVE objects can shrink into black holes. And my "D," though impressive, isn't quite THAT big. So I'm afraid your story is apocryphal.

Seth Ward said...

Touche' science man, touche'.

Good one. lol