My first wreck...
I was in a wreck today. It was pretty bad - the car -- MY future car -- was pretty much totaled, I think. Well, it's not in a drivable condition anymore. I was on my way to Cooper for a Revolution gig in Anson. This silver car was turning left on to Buffalo Gap from Clack. On red. She must have started through the intersection when the light was at least already yellow for a few seconds if not red because my dad and I were driving down Buffalo Gap, and the light was green before the point where he even needed to put on the brakes. So we were cruising at probably about 35 mph, not that fast since it's a pretty short stretch between lights. She pulls out, and I say, "look out," like the backseat driver I am (I was in the passenger seat), my dad brakes an instant later, and then I yell, "LOOK OUT!!" again, and we swerve to the right. It looks like we're headed for the sidewalk between a concrete light post on the left and a wooden electric post on the right with an electrical box right in front of us about 6-12 feet (I don't know, I wasn't really measuring) farther, but we're going too sharp, headed for the electric post; by now I'm screaming, then we overcorrect too much, overcorrect the other way, and slam the driver's side into the light post, right on the headlight. All the acceleration has lifted me off my seat and is pulling me forward, but my seatbelt (YAY!) keeps me from flying out the window, though I distinctly remember my hair flying across my field of vision. The driver's side airbag explodes, sending powdery smoke stuff everywhere (there's no airbag on the passenger's side, thank God, otherwise my face would be a mess), but before it comes across my side I see the concrete pole tilting at an obtuse angle (that's > 90 degrees, if you don't remember). I just remember feeling kinda sideways and thinking, "we're about to roll, we're about to roll, we're about to..." then the car lands back on all four wheels. The smoke is getting in my eyes and throat (still screaming a bit), so I open the door and get out. I look over at my dad, and he's got some blood splattered on him, and he's got a nosebleed and a cut on his forehead that's oozing pretty good already. The woman in the silver car pulls over to us, my mom tells me later she's got green paint on her right front bumper, so I guess she must've hit us, too. Things start getting blurry right hear, but I think I ask my dad if he's okay, I don't remember if he answered, but he didn't look to be hurt very badly, just cut up a bit. His glasses are right in front of the passenger seat where my feet were, but my purse isn't there. I'd had it on my shoulder because I would rather have it there than in my lap, but when I got out, it wasn't on my shoulder anymore. So I start looking for it, and he chunks it at me. Immediately I call Mrs. Radcliffe (I wasn't thinking straight - Revolution was the only thing on my mind in the car). I must have been babbling like a lunatic. By then some witnesses had come over. One of them is actually a trombonist in the Abilene Philharmonic, all dressed up in his tux on the way to the concert, isn't that funny? Anyway, after standing around watching them all call the police/ambulance for my dad, I realize I should probably call my mom. The cops/paramedics arrive, and Rebecca and Will show up to pick me up to go to Cooper if I want. I get my violin out of the backseat, which is when the trombonist introduces himself. The woman that caused it was so scared and apologized over and over. I had to stay and answer some questions (What is your name? How old are you? Were you in the car?). Um... yes, I was in the car. They kept asking me if I hit my head. I didn't. Then they asked about my lip being a bit bloody. I pulled a bit of skin off it earlier. I pretty much told them I was fine, and they believed it. Yay. Actually, my back hurt a little bit, just like when I've been carrying my backpack for more than 10 minutes, so I figured it wasn't serious. Other than that, I felt fine. My mom shows up, asks me if she wants to take me home or to the hospital. I don't want to do either. I want to get very very far away from it and pretend it didn't happen, just like pretending I was fine. Far away... like Anson. So... I end up going to Anson and playing the gig on autopilot, pretty much. I had a lot of blank moments on Chopstickin', but all the solos were fine. The gig went pretty well, I guess, considering Brandon's got a lymph node the size of... a hot pocket?... and bailed, and I was in a bad wreck about an hour before we played. Wow, that was really long. Oh, now my ribs hurt a little bit, and my right shoulder is quite sore.
--
Christine
--
Christine