Too Fast, Too Furious
The year was 1994. My Dad and I had come to Atlanta, but I can't quite remember what for. We had just gotten off the Connector onto Williams St. and were sitting at the first light, waiting for it to turn green. From our right, proceeding along the crossing street, was one of the most beautiful cars that I had ever beheld -- a 1995 BMW M3.
They were new for that year and quite the hot commodity on the car market. Car & Driver would later tab the E36 M3 (as that particular version was designated), "The best-handling car in America." This car was a deep, midnight blue called Avus Blue. It was right then and there that I decided that I would one day own one of these cars, regardless of the measures I would have to take.
Fast-forward eight years. The year is now 2002 and I'm almost two years removed from college. I'd been driving the same car since I graduated, but it was an automatic and I was getting tired of it. On a whim, I looked around on Autotrader for M3s, not really thinking I'd be able to afford one. Boy was I wrong! They were within my range, after some quick calculations. I called my insurance company for a quote, started the loan process to see what I could get and began crunching my budget numbers.
In the mean time, I got in touch with the seller of a beautiful 1995 Cosmos Black (metallic black) two-door M3. I went to test-drive the car one evening after work. Just the sound of the engine starting made me giggle with delight. Driving that car was an absolute dream!! I was in heaven!! I told the seller I was working on financing and that I'd be in touch within a couple of days.
Well, everything came together, so I pulled the trigger. Driving that car away that first day, I couldn't wipe the shit-eating grin off my face. This car was everything that I'd dreamed about for eight years and I was finally the proud owner of my dream car. It had a black leather interior that was in immaculate condition. The windows were already tastefully tinted. The engine was freakishly strong, as I would later find out.
So, for months I enjoyed this car. When I walked out to the parking lot, everytime, I'd smile. Could that really be MY car? Hit the keyless... well yes it is! I babied this thing... I did all the work on it myself, because I believe any good relationship is hands-on... I knew that car inside and out. And to me, it was perfect. Aside from a slipping clutch which was going to get fixed in short order, I couldn't be more pleased with it.
Round about March, I was out and about one particular Friday night. Late in the evening, I was returning home in that car. I was on Peachtree headed north back to my apartment. I was coming up on Lenox Mall, when I rounded a sharp curve to the right. Idiot that I am, I was trying to go a little too fast (showing off) and the back end of my car got loose. I couldn't catch it in in, which sent me sliding sideways into oncoming traffic.
The last thing I remember is looking out my side window and seeing headlights coming straight at me. SHIT!
The next thing I remember is being on the sidewalk. Apparently, I blacked out, but was able to extract myself from my car and walk across the street to the sidewalk. I was bleeding pretty bad from the cuts on my face and arm, and was pretty shaken up. I looked over at my car. Oh, no. Not good at all. I'd hit an oncoming Ford Explorer. Both cars were totalled.
To make a long story shorter, me and my occupant were taken to the hospital and checked out, then released with superficial wounds. The occupants of the Explorer refused medical treatment at the scene -- they were, fortunately, OK.
God, I loved that car. Everytime I think about it, I kick myself. It was my first M3 and the best I could've ever hoped for. I was close to having it just the way I wanted it, but stupid me... I ruined a good thing. I now have another, but it's not the same. It's a different color, inside and out; it's got a few issues that drive me crazy; it's not as strong of an engine; and it's not my first. Don't get me wrong, it still makes me smile, but not the same. I want my beautiful black one back.
Anyways, I'm told by the police and EMTs on the scene, that I was INCREDIBLY lucky. If the impact, which was about one foot behind my driver-side door, had been 12-18 inches farther forward, I would not be here today. To put it in different terms, if that Explorer had been about a half-second earlier, it would've hit me square on my door and killed me.
One-half second. 18 inches. Kinda gives you a new perspective on things, especially considering the tragedies I've witnessed with friends in cars.
So, I'll stop gabbing and let you observe for yourself:
Pic One
Pic Two
Pic Three
Pic Four
Pic Five
Some of those barely look like a car, huh? One friend described it this way:
If I'd seen those pictures with no explanation, I would've sworn it was a fatality accident.
I was fortunate that evening. Apparently, I have unfulfilled purpose on this Earth.
They were new for that year and quite the hot commodity on the car market. Car & Driver would later tab the E36 M3 (as that particular version was designated), "The best-handling car in America." This car was a deep, midnight blue called Avus Blue. It was right then and there that I decided that I would one day own one of these cars, regardless of the measures I would have to take.
Fast-forward eight years. The year is now 2002 and I'm almost two years removed from college. I'd been driving the same car since I graduated, but it was an automatic and I was getting tired of it. On a whim, I looked around on Autotrader for M3s, not really thinking I'd be able to afford one. Boy was I wrong! They were within my range, after some quick calculations. I called my insurance company for a quote, started the loan process to see what I could get and began crunching my budget numbers.
In the mean time, I got in touch with the seller of a beautiful 1995 Cosmos Black (metallic black) two-door M3. I went to test-drive the car one evening after work. Just the sound of the engine starting made me giggle with delight. Driving that car was an absolute dream!! I was in heaven!! I told the seller I was working on financing and that I'd be in touch within a couple of days.
Well, everything came together, so I pulled the trigger. Driving that car away that first day, I couldn't wipe the shit-eating grin off my face. This car was everything that I'd dreamed about for eight years and I was finally the proud owner of my dream car. It had a black leather interior that was in immaculate condition. The windows were already tastefully tinted. The engine was freakishly strong, as I would later find out.
So, for months I enjoyed this car. When I walked out to the parking lot, everytime, I'd smile. Could that really be MY car? Hit the keyless... well yes it is! I babied this thing... I did all the work on it myself, because I believe any good relationship is hands-on... I knew that car inside and out. And to me, it was perfect. Aside from a slipping clutch which was going to get fixed in short order, I couldn't be more pleased with it.
Round about March, I was out and about one particular Friday night. Late in the evening, I was returning home in that car. I was on Peachtree headed north back to my apartment. I was coming up on Lenox Mall, when I rounded a sharp curve to the right. Idiot that I am, I was trying to go a little too fast (showing off) and the back end of my car got loose. I couldn't catch it in in, which sent me sliding sideways into oncoming traffic.
The last thing I remember is looking out my side window and seeing headlights coming straight at me. SHIT!
The next thing I remember is being on the sidewalk. Apparently, I blacked out, but was able to extract myself from my car and walk across the street to the sidewalk. I was bleeding pretty bad from the cuts on my face and arm, and was pretty shaken up. I looked over at my car. Oh, no. Not good at all. I'd hit an oncoming Ford Explorer. Both cars were totalled.
To make a long story shorter, me and my occupant were taken to the hospital and checked out, then released with superficial wounds. The occupants of the Explorer refused medical treatment at the scene -- they were, fortunately, OK.
God, I loved that car. Everytime I think about it, I kick myself. It was my first M3 and the best I could've ever hoped for. I was close to having it just the way I wanted it, but stupid me... I ruined a good thing. I now have another, but it's not the same. It's a different color, inside and out; it's got a few issues that drive me crazy; it's not as strong of an engine; and it's not my first. Don't get me wrong, it still makes me smile, but not the same. I want my beautiful black one back.
Anyways, I'm told by the police and EMTs on the scene, that I was INCREDIBLY lucky. If the impact, which was about one foot behind my driver-side door, had been 12-18 inches farther forward, I would not be here today. To put it in different terms, if that Explorer had been about a half-second earlier, it would've hit me square on my door and killed me.
One-half second. 18 inches. Kinda gives you a new perspective on things, especially considering the tragedies I've witnessed with friends in cars.
So, I'll stop gabbing and let you observe for yourself:
Pic One
Pic Two
Pic Three
Pic Four
Pic Five
Some of those barely look like a car, huh? One friend described it this way:
If I'd seen those pictures with no explanation, I would've sworn it was a fatality accident.
I was fortunate that evening. Apparently, I have unfulfilled purpose on this Earth.