So there had been an accident.

It's never easy going to work the day after you've fired someone.  Especially if you've liked the person.  Even more so when you know you could be home with your wife and new baby.

Me and my daughter, 1997.

So this morning I reluctantly went to work. The morning drive in was softened because my wife dropped me off at work. It’s always nice to be able to share the morning ride with her.  Sometimes, these rare occasions present our only opportunity to talk for any length of time without all kinds of interruptions. It was especially nice this morning because our beautiful little baby was with us, and I was able to spend a few extra moments with her.

So this morning started with a hug from my wife, a kiss on my baby’s beautiful forehead, and then a management meeting in the board room.  It looked like it would be a long, awkward day ahead, and there’s nothing more frustrating than knowing the entire first half of the day would be spent in meetings.

So I settled in, not even time for a cup of coffee, to talk about audit reports, equipment problems and fund-raising needs.  “Is that rain?” someone said as the sound of a violent storm rattled the roof. Twenty-minutes later, a page pulled me out of the meeting.  I had an urgent phone call, there’s an emergency. There was some confusion, the call wasn’t coming through.  Then my wife, on the phone, her voice shaking through the crackle of the cellular phone.  And my day had just begun.

The day hadn't gone much better for Sean Newell.  Maybe nothing is more frustrating than driving in a thunderstorm, on a two-lane highway, and being stuck behind a semi-truck going 35 miles per hour.  “Ridiculous.  What could this guy be thinking?  Why is he going so slow?  Why am I stuck beyond this guy?  You can't see around him.  You can't get past him?!  The damn rain keeps coming, only getting worse.  Geeze, let's move already. Come on.  It's early, so much to do.”  

After following a slow moving truck for a while in the early morning, you get tired of just following.  If he wasn't there you could go so much faster, get there so much sooner. “Maybe he’ll turn off.  But, no. There’s nothing you can do.  Wait, there's an opening.  Who does this guy think he is going so slow.  Here's my chance.  I’ll... pass... him... NOW!”

“Here we go.  Across the thick double yellow lines, press on the gas...faster...faster.  Soon I'll blow past this guy and I'll be on my way--outta here!  Oh no Where that car come from?  Oh shit.  I am in its lane, heading right for me.  I can't get back. Where the hell did it come from.  Why didn’t I see it.  It’s too late.”

So there had been an accident.  My wife was on the phone in a panic.  Come quick, the car is totaled she quivered.

I ran out the door, my heart pounding.  I grabbed the keys to the work van and jumped in and sped off.  My wife was about five miles from pulling up into our safe driveway.  Instead, she had to swerve to miss Sean Newell, who was driving his Saturn on the wrong side of a two-lane road, as he tried to pass a semi-truck in a thunderstorm simply because it was going too slow for him.  His Saturn sideswiped our Jeep and pushed it off the road.  Karolyn tried to miss him, and in so doing saved both their lives by avoiding a head-on collision.  Then the Jeep careened off the wet roads and smashed into two tall, old Florida slash pines.  The pines cut a two-foot indentation into the passenger side of the Jeep—from the front tire to the back tire.  The greatest depth of the indentation was at the rear passenger seat, where the car crinkled inward, pushing the plastic car seat towards the center of the car. The entire expanse of windows on the passenger side was missing, smashed into the car, mimicking the rain outside with shards of glass which cut into my wife’s legs, hands and arms.  The car seat saved my baby’s life.  The baby seat's sun bonnet deflected most of the glass away from the precious three week old little girl.  The sun-shade which blocked the sun from the baby’s eyes had been stuck onto the nearby window with suction cups.  Now it laid on the floor of the back seat, cradling most of the glass from the rear window. Glass which could have destroyed a little baby’s life.

My wife, Karolyn, had done everything right. Her lights were on.  So were her seat belts.  The baby was secure, facing the rear of the car in her safety seat.  And Karolyn had lowered her speed on the slick road. In a matter of seconds, a car had been heading on a collision course right for her.  Then, she slowed some more, and swerved.  In a split second she realized that the car was totaled. In another split second she realized that there were no sounds from the baby she had given life too just a few short weeks before, had carefully taken home, cared for and loved. She jumped out of the crippled vehicle, reached for the rear door, but it didn't budge.  The passenger side doors were pinned—no wrapped around—the two otherwise majestic pines.  The baby was silent, but Karolyn's heartbeat grew louder.  Sean tried to explain that he had had no choice, the truck was just going too slow.  Finally.  Karolyn ran to the back of the car and pried open the hatchback.  As the hatch was pulled open, a cry rang out from within the car. Karolyn jumped in, and managed to pull our precious little girl out of the plastic shell which had not cracked.  The rain continued to pour down, and the little baby continued to cry.  The day had begun and ended all at once.

Coming home to my daughter!

The Jeep is gone.  Karolyn and Kara are ok.

Quick reaction avoided a head on collision.

The car seat held up and did its job.

The rear axle which broke off and plowed into the gas tank stopped just short enough to avoid puncturing the tank and creating a fire, or worse, an explosion.

And tomorrow, I’ll leave my brave wife and beautiful child, go back to work and sit in a meeting.

(c) 1997 Philip M. DiComo

EPILOGUE

     It was difficult to explain to those who were asking exactly what had happened the day of the accident, so at midnight on the Friday night after the accident I wrote the above explanation and emailed it out to friends and family. I had forgotten all about this writing, until my daughter graduated from college and my mom pulled out the email with these words to share with my daughter to remind her she will do great things. I think my mom is right, and I am glad she saved my email which I had lost (probably with the last days of earthlink!). 

     What I didn't include in the story is that when I arrived at the accident scene our Jeep didn't look all that bad from the road, but as I walked around it and saw a pine tree in the middle of our car where my daughter's car seat should have been, my faced turned red. I looked up and saw a police officer in the near distance push a young man into the back of his police cruiser. He ran over to me and said that my family was ok, and that they were at the hospital just to be sure. He then told me when I walked around the car my face had changed so dramatically that when I looked over towards them he thought I would come over and try to kill the kid who caused the accident. He didn't put him into the cruiser because he was being arrested, but for his own protection.  At that moment, I hadn't even realized he was the one who caused the accident. Probably a good thing. 

What we call the present is given shape by an Accumulation of the Past.

Haruki Murakami, 1Q84

Every day moments accumulate in our lives, and we experience them with great feeling and passion, or even indifference. But they make up who we are and who we become as individuals and human beings. As the years accumulate, our memories and feelings about those memories tend to fade. Yet, everything we are today is given shape by each and every experience, so it is good to acknowledge the memories and life-moments that have brought us to today.