Lemony Webbles

ice

Around 9:30 this morning, the kids and I were playing in the toy room and we heard this sound like a light bulb makes when it suddenly burns out as you turn on the light switch. We looked around, and out the window was a car rammed into the bushes in our neighbor's yard, about 15 feet away from the window we were looking out of, and a woman staggering around, getting her two small children, out of the smoking wreckage. I had a strange feeling as I slowly realized that I needed to go from the passive looker out the window, to the active getter of help. I looked around for the phone, which was not in it's charger, of course. Then I saw that there was already someone outside on their cell phone. So I hopped out into the snow, and shouted for them to come inside out of the sharp wind. They came shakily up the stairs. The mom was bleeding a little from her mouth, but, other than that, they all looked ok. As we worked on getting the kids' snowy shoes and coats off, the older of the two boys (named Adonis, I later found out, around Georgia's age) kept saying, 'That was scary. I'm scared'. The younger one, Armani (maybe two), just ran up and joined Maya and Georgia in their couch-trampoline jumping. I sat and talked to the mom, though I never managed to ask her her name (it just didn't come up. I overheard that her last name was Merriwether when she was talking to the police later) and she told me she was four months pregnant and asked me if I thought the baby was going to be ok. (like I would know. I had no idea what to say) Of course, I said the baby would be fine, thinking about what a great shock absorbing system fetuses are decked out with. She said she was feeling dizzy, but nothing worse. It turned out her mouth had gotten hit with the air bag when it inflated(?) (what's the verb for an air bag? seems like exploded would be about right) Her kids were so well behaved, they just got right into playing, and played nicely with my kids, despite being thrown into a totally scary and weird situation. I was very impressed by that. Neither of them even cried. Within a couple minutes, police cars, a tow truck, an ambulance, and an Urbana Park District truck arrived to officially take care of the situation. They all quickly got to work, policeman asking lots of questions from the doorway, trying not to track snow into the house, EMTs asking Mrs. Merriwether lots of questions about her condition. She seemed fine, but they all trooped on to the emergency room anyways just to check on the baby, etc. Tatman's towing guys outside trying to drag the car out of the bushes. They ended up needing two trucks, and thank goodness for the snow to slide on or they never would have gotten that thing out. The front end was all smashed up and pieces all over the yard. Later I would notice that a strange looking red thing behind a tree was a fire hydrant that she had taken out as her car was spinning around in circles on the ice. After a big shuffle to get the kids' coats and shoes back on, with three big EMT guys trying to helpful in my small entryway, and a quick hug from Mrs. Merriwether, they were all gone. I looked at the clock and only half an hour had passed. All that was left of the adventure were puddles of melting snow on the floor, and tire tracks and a misplaced fire hydrant outside. I felt a little dizzy as I went about the rest of my morning.

Now, 3 pm, there's a crew and a bunch of workers digging a big hole around the fire hydrant, putting it back together, I suppose. I'm still a little shaky, though nothing happened to me. I think it scares me to think about what could have happened, how much worse it could have been. But I feel like I shouldn't let my mind go there because it's not real. But minds tend to wander, at least mine does. Mrs. Merriwether (what an ironic name that is today) hit a patch of ice and spun out of control, and now I'm remembering when that happened to me. It was six winters ago, I think (I'm not good at remembering dates), and I was on Hwy. 74 around Danville, going to Earlham College, trying to get to Angeline's graduation. I was driving Theresa, my old monster car, a 1972 Phoenix that Grandma Moutrie had given me, and the weather conditions were not good. It was icy and there was some sleet falling. The roads were really slick and I hit a big ice patch under a bridge and lost control of the car as it started sliding off the road. Then a double semi zoomed past me realy fast and the wake of the truck sent me into a spin back on the road. I stopped spinning facing the wrong way and saw another semi coming right for me. I knew then that I was going to die. I took my foot off the brake, where it had erroneously been planted the whole time, and the car jumped (backwards? sideways?, I still don't know) off the highway, down the median ditch and up the other side, and stopped just short of the next lanes. I just sat there, not wanting to move or get out. Hoping that if I just sat still enough, this wouldn't be happening, and I would just be able to drive away. But the car was stuck in the ditch and it wouldn't budge. Thankfully, the truck that I almost ran smack into stopped for me (the double semi never did), and called for help. The driver came to check on me and asked if I wanted to sit in the cab while I was waiting. I wanted to say no because I was scared of having another crisis to deal with if he turned out to be a creep, but I felt really stupid just sitting in my now very cold car, so I went. I sat there nervously; I had never been in a semi before. He had a little fridge, from which he offered me a can of fruit cocktail. I said I wasn't hungry. He asked me if there was anything else wrong besides my current situation, because he said he could tell I seemed really anxious. I told him I was worried about Grandma Patty who was having heart surgery that day (which was true) and whatever else was on my mind that day. He said something reassuring, and then told me about himself. His name is Don Johnson, but unlike Mr. Miami Vice, he's a grandpa from Utah that can't wait to get back home to rock his two-year-old grandson on the porch. I really looked at thim then, and realized that he was a very good person. Totally blew away my stereotypes of truck drivers. I got out of the ditch with the help of a tow truck, and was amazingly able to drive away from that. I drove straight back home, praying the whole time, newly terrified of ice patches. It's taken me a long time to get over that incident and to feel relatively comfortable driving on snow or ice. Time has been the biggest help in gaining confidence again. I have a deep respect for icy roads now, and I'm still scared of being blown off the road by trucks.

Lesson: I guess it's nice to be helped by strangers, and it's also nice to be that strange helper, I mean helpful stranger. Peace on earth. Good will to people in car accidents.