(no subject)
Last night I saw the very end of Phil's crash in his cavalier from the rear view mirror of my car. I have never, ever had a more terrifying moment then when I ran up to that car and didn't see him standing off to the right of it.
I think it is safe to say that I love that kid, and all of you, my friends, more than I can ever say or let you know.
I'm going to put down in words my memory of the day, just in case I ever forget.
We were going down Walnut Brook Road, which crosses the Sanford/North Berwick town line, We had been playing Airsoft at the top of the hill with some mutual friends. Ethan, Devin and I decided to ride in my car, as Phil had already been caught violating his six months. Had we not decided this, things could have been very different.
So around 8:55 we're leaving, I head down the first sharp corner and suddenly I hear squealing behind me, Ethan begns to yell that Phil crashed, Devin and Ethan shout at me to pull over, which I'm in the process of. All I saw were Phil's headlights head off the road. I initially thought he was in a ditch, but when I got closer, I saw the car had rolled.
Devin was trying to get out of the beretta, Ethan was shaking his seat, trying to speed Devin up. Devin got out, Ethan got caught in seat belt. I ran with them, ran back and put on my hazards and ran up to the car. We were all shouting Phil's name, and ten we heard him, and saw him standing up, shoeless, away from his car.
"That fucking hurt!" Were the first words I heard him say.
The next few minutes were a jumble of my clumsy 911 call. Then the cops, ambulences, etc arrived, and its history from there.
Each month when I visit my Grandmother's grave, I pray for her to keep an eye out for the people I care about.
There is litte doubt in my mind that she is listening to those humble pleas.
I think it is safe to say that I love that kid, and all of you, my friends, more than I can ever say or let you know.
I'm going to put down in words my memory of the day, just in case I ever forget.
We were going down Walnut Brook Road, which crosses the Sanford/North Berwick town line, We had been playing Airsoft at the top of the hill with some mutual friends. Ethan, Devin and I decided to ride in my car, as Phil had already been caught violating his six months. Had we not decided this, things could have been very different.
So around 8:55 we're leaving, I head down the first sharp corner and suddenly I hear squealing behind me, Ethan begns to yell that Phil crashed, Devin and Ethan shout at me to pull over, which I'm in the process of. All I saw were Phil's headlights head off the road. I initially thought he was in a ditch, but when I got closer, I saw the car had rolled.
Devin was trying to get out of the beretta, Ethan was shaking his seat, trying to speed Devin up. Devin got out, Ethan got caught in seat belt. I ran with them, ran back and put on my hazards and ran up to the car. We were all shouting Phil's name, and ten we heard him, and saw him standing up, shoeless, away from his car.
"That fucking hurt!" Were the first words I heard him say.
The next few minutes were a jumble of my clumsy 911 call. Then the cops, ambulences, etc arrived, and its history from there.
Each month when I visit my Grandmother's grave, I pray for her to keep an eye out for the people I care about.
There is litte doubt in my mind that she is listening to those humble pleas.