I was recently in a car accident, and people like to know details about that sort of thing. This is an unparalleled place to store information, so that's one.
The second is that I need to place a marker somewhere about the tone of gratitude that has ruled my days since the accident took place.
Here goes.
On November 5th, 2007, at approximately 11:05 a.m., I was driving northbound on Malibu Canyon Road, from the Pepperdine stretch of Highway One to the Las Virgines Canyon area of Ventura County.
A week earlier fires in the area had made the national news. The hillsides were scorched and various homes had been decimated while others stood next to these charred holes, oddly in tact.
I was driving around 45 miles per hour and I remember there had been some roadwork happening because the traffic had been stopped in the South direction at the mouth of the plant just 2 miles up from PCH. The northbound lane was redirected into the opposite lane for several yards to make our way around a gravel truck making a delivery. There was a gorgeous Porsche Boxter directly behind me that showed deft handling ability around an orange cone as we made our way back to the right side of the road.
We headed toward the tunnel...
I was on my way back from a business meeting that had gone exceptionally well. I was introducing two pivotal members of the generation that is mentoring me into great social responsibility, parenting, leadership and commerce. As I reflected on the meeting and glowed from its positive impact, I mentally shifted into preparation for a conference call with a client that I had scheduled for 11:00 a.m.
I dialed the number, logged in, set the recording, and patiently waited for the client, admiring the Black Boxter in my rear view mirror.
And all I remember is having no time to react. There was a recognition of the eyes of the driver in the car opposite me. They were huge. Like, if there were a way to change time just for one second it could happen with the power behind those eyes.
In the police report, a witness named Smith driving southbound related to Officer Manipella, he observed the driver in the car behind him swerving in the lane. The driver, "was leaning over towards the passenger floorboard as if he was looking for something." Smith said he was concerned for his own safety, so he sped up to gain some distance between them. "That is when the driver drifted off the roadway and onto the dirt shoulder." He swerved back to the left, across the double yellow lines and hit me head on in the northbound lane.
That's what the police report says. And it doesn't disagree with my memory. Its just that my memory is a little less detailed.
I remember the other car coming too close. I remember not being able to do anything about it. I remember those huge eyes. Being instantly connected to them. Feeling the shock and horror that was in them and wishing I could make this mans dream come true, to take back a split second. To rewrite a few inches of time.
Slam!
I lifted my head from my steering wheel.
My cell phone, which was on loudspeaker, played the hold music for my conference line -- an electrified middle eastern guitar sounding like the John Renborn Group. Dust surrounded me. I discovered later that was from the airbags. I didn't even realize they'd deployed. I heard a distinct and sharp hissing noise and had an image of some Simon & Simon car explosion moment. Then, I got movin'!
The passenger window had disappeared. I did my best Duke boys car exit and it wasn't until I saw my second leg come out of the car window till I recognized that my right foot wouldn't support me.
Two men made their way to me and put their shoulders under my arms.
My right ankle was bent and bloody. I leaned into these strangers who'd approached me offering help.
A woman and her daughter pulled up across the street.
"I'm a nurse. I'm headed down the hill to Urgent Care. I'll take him," she said from her window. Without even blinking, the men at my side helped me across the street and into her car. Her name is Suzanne Bailey and she showed incredible strength of character that day.
As we pulled away from the scene I saw that the sexy black Porsche Boxter that had been behind me had also been involved in the accident. In an effort not to rear end me it had scraped my tail, veered to the right, come around me and slammed into the Nissan that had smacked me head-on. The two of them continued on into the embankment on the right until they came to a stop another 30 feet North.
I could hear the hold music still playing on my cell phone on the floor of my crumpled car. It was amazing we lived.
That canyon is particularly deep in spots, and we happened to be on a rare stretch that has an embankment on the South side. Fifty feet in either direction and the whole pile of cars would have ended up in a five second free-fall before reaching completion. I withstood the worst of the injuries, a broken ankle and the others walked away noting back-pain.
Suzanne got me to Urgent Care and eventually followed my ambulance to St John's in Santa Monica where I was seen by a team of extraordinarily well-trained and highly competent professionals. So much more could be written about them. By 9 pm my shattered ankle and lower leg had been repaired with nine screws, two metal plates, and two long incisions along either side of my ankle.
I'm sure I'll dedicate other posts to what followed. What seems most important here is to relay the sense of exceptional joy I feel at still being alive.
It isn't getting to see the smile on my sons face, or a bite of incredibly good food. It isn't the scent of Fall lingering on the breeze, or the tint of turning leaves drifting to the ground.
Its that sense that the world is really designed to look out for all of us. In these weeks I'm between cars and not able to drive even if I had a car. That means, especially where I'm currently living, asking for help when I need to go anywhere, even the cafe down the street.
Two weeks ago, one of the Mom's in my son's performing arts conservatory had a weeks worth of groceries delivered to my door. What a huge heart! Several days later, another friend drove 50 miles to take me to a performance of my son's. I cried at how much sacrifice people are willing to make for those of us who are simply in a position to ask for help. This Saturday, a woman I met once is taking us to sit with Mr. and Mrs. Clause for a photo op and some holiday pizza. The kindness is amazing. And I accept.
Knowing that people in the world care that much -- that there are people who look for chances to help one another -- makes me grateful. Extremely grateful.
Every single day, since that accident, has felt distinctly like a gift. As though each moment were borrowed from somewhere magnificent. I have a second set of eyes now that only observes my happiness quotient in each moment.
Every time one of my dreams or visions falls into place I feel increasingly supported. My reliance on the universe is strengthened.
What a gift.
I haven't been able to reach the driver of the car that caused the accident. As of now it looks like he was uninsured at the time. His phone has been disconnected since then. And I am very clear that he is completely forgiven. These things happen.
Don't let that sound like I'm saying he's complete. He's not. And, I have the space in my heart to let go of any emotional ties that bind me to him.
I get little body-shakes when I drive by other accidents. I'm shocked by how much memory each muscle has. That hideous sound of metal on metal comes back to me.
That gasp in the air that gets silent. Then the screech of tires. Metal folding on itself. Glass sprinkling onto pavement. All so fast it makes one sound.
That sound enters my head when I see another accident. So I'm not entirely and completely free from the whole incident, yet. But I will be.
And part of that means being willing to be here when the man who caused the accident decides to do the honorable thing and make it right.
I'll be centered through that. I'll be grateful to participate in that level of living, knowing what it is doing for him, for us.
For our world,
MacEwen
