I committed what has to be the worst moving violation in my vehicle that I’ve ever done, and was very lucky that something bad didn’t happen to me (see below).
This got me thinking…I’ve had some very close scrapes. Eerily and scarily close. But I’ve always been lucky, and gotten away with nary a scratch, or only minorly injured. Looking back, I can recall four instances where fate intervened with my stupidity…
- It all started my junior year of college, when I was taking an in-line skating class (yes, Michigan State University gave me credit for this). It was the last nice day in October, and the day before the O.J. Simpson verdict came through (I’m dating myself, I know…but I’m a cheap date).
We had a free skate day around campus, and I ended up near the Breslin Center, where the Spartans play their b-ball games. On the south side of said building, there is a loading dock that goes down beneath it…quite a nice little slope.
Well, we hadn’t really learned to brake yet. Not well, at least…but that didn’t stop me from heading on down the ramp. About a third of the way down, I realized I was going way too fast…at least 15 mph, and rising…and I figured I needed to stop. Well, I did the scissors thing with my feet, lifted my toe, applied pressure. End result? I stop accelerating…but am still going damn fast.
I am now two-thirds of the way down the ramp, and have about 5 seconds to decide what I want to hit. Luckily, the big metal door right at the bottom of the ramp was raised, so there was a small open area beyond that. My choices:
- A parked car. Decided not to go for that, as that would drag another person into the situation. And broken glass. And twisted metal.
- Two big metal garage doors. If these were raised, I could have skated right out onto the court…would have been kind of neat if practice was going on, but as it was they were down. Eliminated these, but can’t quite remember why.
- The narrow cement wall between the two doors.
Yeah, I chose the third one. Swift thinking, Lockseer.
So, I hit the wall…the radius of each arm got jammed up into the humerus, and I ended up with hairline fractures on each elbow. Luckily, I had on wrist guards. Then, what my hands didn’t stop, my face kind of did, and I broke my nose (again, was wearing a helmet, so stopped all skull contact there). I kind of rolled back a bit…checked my teeth (none broken!) and sat down, dazed. Had a bloody nose…
At the time, I just felt like my elbows were sore and didn’t think my nose was broken, but I was taken to the on-campus health center where X-rays confirmed the above. End result: no surgery or casts, but had to wear my arms in two slings for a few days…oh, and codeine. The doctor kept saying I was extremely lucky, and that someone was watching over me that day…little did this mysterious guardian know they would have their work cut out for them over the next few years.
- Fast forward to summer of 1997. I just graduated and was bumping right into graduate school. One evening, I was out jogging along the neighborhoods of East Lansing, MI, when I turned onto a road that was under construction. I moved to the sidewalk, and enjoyed the cool night air.
Up ahead, the sidewalk passed into shadows under a tree (the streetlights were either out or dimmed by the tree at that point). On a whim…nothing more than a whim…I leapt over a particular dark shadow on the sidewalk, just to see if I could. As I sailed over the shadow, I glanced down…a whole freakin’ chunk of the sidewalk was missing, and there was a four foot deep whole dug into the ground!
I landed, and caught my breath, and went back to look. Sure enough…missing chunk o’ sidewalk, about 4 feet long and 4 feet deep. I heart skipped a beat as to what would have happened if I had just jogged right into that…head striking opposite side of pavement, lying there all night…to this day, I have no idea what caused me to jump.
- I was pretty safe for several years, until this past Spring. Had worked in Chicago for several years and was now back in school again for a third degree. Some friends and I drove down to Florida for Spring Break and were driving back. We left at 2am on Saturday/Early Sunday, figuring that my friend and I (who were out partying) would sleep while the other two drove, then we’d take over in the morning while they slept.
Well…I have trouble sleeping in vehicles. So when I took the wheel in northern Georgia, I wasn’t that well rested, if at all. We make it into Tennessee, just past Chattanooga, and I tell my friend in the passenger seat (who is also falling into and out of sleep, but hasn’t driven yet), that I need to get off at the next exit and switch places, because I’m barely hanging on.
So, of course, I fall asleep. While driving. In construction. The car slides right into one of those concrete lane dividers (just realized…I’m not having real good luck with cement/concrete, am I?) and the car jumps like it’s at the rodeo.
Needless to say, that woke up all four of us.
Luckily, we just got a flat tire, and we pulled off at the next exit. Unfortunately, this being Sunday in Tennessee, almost everything was closed and Sears didn’t have a tire that fit the ol’ Aztek. One friend had to be back to teach the next day, and another had an exam. So…after waiting at Sears for six hours, we decide to bite the bullet and drive back to Michigan on the spare. We should have gotten back at 9pm Sunday night…didn’t get back until 6am Sunday morning. But my narcolepsy got us was a flat tire. Again…damn lucky.
- Finally, last night. I was driving along a back road south of campus which ends at a T-junction. Normally, I would have turned left there where the road I was on ended. Instead, next thing I know, I’m in the middle of the intersection going about 50 miles an hour. I drove right through the stop sign and didn’t even realize it.
I have no idea what was going on…I know I wasn’t asleep. I wasn’t rocking out to a song on the radio. I can’t remember what I was thinking about. Hell, could have been an out-of-body experience for all I know. All that matters is I’m past the stop sign, in the intersection and going damn fast.
Two points of luck here: First, there was no traffic coming from either the left or right. Secondly, there was a dirt road on the other side of the T-junction (that was reserved for University vehicles). I pull a Dukes of Hazzard, leap onto the dirt road, and come to a slow stop (had plenty of unpaved road ahead of me, so didn’t think slamming on the brakes would be a good idea). Needless to say…I sat there, idling, wondering what the hell just happened.
Those are the four points in the past ten years where I specifically recall being luckier than I deserve. In each, I could have been hurt a LOT worse, as could others. Just hoping my luck holds out…
(Sorry for the lengthy post, and bless your heart if you read this far…any other near death experiences out there?)