an unexpected rescue
Posted on | September 9, 2010 | 18 Comments
It wasn’t the way I expected it might happen; in fact, I didn’t expect it at all.
In the back seat the boys were eating peanuts and chocolate graham crackers, on the way home from picking Bean up at kindergarten. I was thinking absently about school projects; about this book that we are reading this week, and about how it’s maybe true: you do know. Yes you.
And then we were on the dirt road, going around the corner and I could feel the way the mud grabbed at the tires of the car. I wasn’t driving fast. Slow enough that I could slam on the breaks and the tousled maple-syrup scented head of Sprout barely tugged forward at all.
“What, mommy, what?” Bean asked.
But I was already out of the car. Like that: like instinct, my body moving before I could think about what to do next.
In front of me: a car entirely flipped over, roof to the ground, in a ditch, on a rock, windows shattered. Smoke threaded its way from the broken windows.
There was a girl inside, alive, and I felt my heart want to explode with relief. Alive, and secondly, her neck wasn’t broken. She was dangling from her seatbelt, her feet were stuck, her face smooshed into the roof of the car. She had already called 911 (I am guessing here—but I am pretty sure she was on her cell or texting when she crashed—because she wouldn’t have been able to locate her cell phone if it hadn’t have been in her hand—everything was strewn everywhere among the broken glass.)
She was shaking, and I could feel my own body quiver with adrenaline and empathy. I asked her if she could move. I asked her if her head hurt. And then I carefully, carefully pulled her legs free. And she was totally unable to help me—she just shook and sobbed. She hung upside down until I reached around her and unclipped her seatbelt and then she collapsed into my arms.
She was 17. Gorgeous pale skin, freckles, smudged mascara. I held her until she could stand.
And all she could say over and over again was: “My parents are going to kill me.”
No, sweetie. They will be happy you are alive. I wrapped her in an animal print blanket we keep in our trunk for impromptu picnics and I brought her to my car. Other people stopped. One man had stopped while I helped her to get out. He was too scared to help. Afterwards he said, “You should have a medal.” But it’s really not like that at all: I am a mother. There wasn’t anything else I could do.
So I kept her warm and kept her from hyperventilating, which she was slipping towards several times as she panicked about her parents. She called her work first. Then her mom, lastly her dad, who came, tall, thin, without a smile and stood beside the state trooper answering questions before he finally turned to me and said, “thank you for stopping.”
He didn’t hug his daughter. He didn’t reach for her or stroke her hair or tell her he was happy she was alive.
How does this happen? How?
My boys meanwhile were so good. They sat in their carseats for 45 minutes—because the first responders and then the EMTs treated her in my car before finally taking her to the hospital. Bean watched everything quietly, unafraid, wide eyed. He was in heaven watching the firemen come and clear the way for the car to be towed. (The smoke was from the airbag, thankfully.)
One fireman, seeing Bean, went and got both boys Junior Firefighter medals from their truck. Bean was over the moon proud.
I drove home slowly, grateful, grateful. And it was a peaceful, mellow afternoon of story books and me doing design work and Bean drawing next to me at my big long desk (while Sprout slept.) Oh how I love them, my sweet, sweet boys.
Also: What is with texting while driving? Why do people—and particularly teenagers do it? Also: her seatbelt saved her life. I have no doubt about that at all. If you have teens or know some, tell them.
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I am Christina Rosalie
Hello. I'm so happy you've stopped by!
I am a multimedia storyteller, digital strategist, idea starter, stalker of wonder, finder of four leaf clovers, MFA graduate student, and mama of boys. My first book,
will be published by SKIRT! Books in September, 2012.
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September 9th, 2010 @ 10:11 pm
Holy mother of god Christina… You seem so calm about this. My stomach is churning right now having READ about it. And what is with the father not having an ounce of nurturing for HIS CHILD who was so lucky she didn’t get hurt. My mind is whirling. Maybe I should have my students read this…would that be okay with you?
September 9th, 2010 @ 10:47 pm
Wow. As a mother, my heart just breaks to read about the father’s reaction, the way he doesn’t reach out and comfort his daughter. Beautiful story, Christina. And I’m so glad YOU were there to comfort this young girl… even if her father wasn’t. Wow.
September 9th, 2010 @ 11:17 pm
i’m sitting here crying, because as a mama you hope that someone will stop and not be afraid, especially if it’s your kid. shame on that dad…poor girl, even if she was texting and driving. xo
September 10th, 2010 @ 12:42 am
You are amazing. So wonderful that you could think clearly and offer her a little comfort and care.
Kids are just not used to driving and dealing with the weird stuff. Maybe she was texting, or on her phone when it happened. (I do not text while I drive, but I do talk on the phone. Though NOT very often.) And I have SO been there – when I was 16, I looked down to turn up the radio, went off the road a little, overcorrected, and ended up flipping my parents’ brand new car right over, skidding through a barb wire fence.
I was so scared. I wasn’t hurt and was able to get out of the car, then walk to a nearby house and call. I couldn’t believe my parents weren’t mad at me. Now I understand – it doesn’t matter how many thousands of dollars it may cost, your child is worth more. I so hope that Dad was scared wordless and is able to tell his daughter later how glad he is she’s still alive.
September 10th, 2010 @ 12:48 am
Oh my, that made me tear up. When I was 18 I fell asleep late at night while driving home (on the highway with NO seatbelt on, what was I thinking?). A man stopped and pulled the door off my car and got me out. I told him that I was dying (I was not in good shape) and he told me he was pretty sure I wasn’t but he would get me some help. When my parents got to the hospital my Dad was extremely stoic while listening to the doctor but when I was left in the room with him and my mom he broke down. Hopefully the man was in shock and came to his senses. That girl will remember you for a long, long time. trust me on that.
September 10th, 2010 @ 2:45 am
Wow. What incredible instincts you have. Which makes sense, when I think about what you’ve lived through. How lucky she was to have you stop. And what an example for your boys, of courage and compassion and responding to crisis.
Much love to you tonight.
September 10th, 2010 @ 3:13 am
You are a hero, and I do hope her father was just in shock.
September 10th, 2010 @ 3:42 am
Well done on what you did, that was quite something. I can’t imagine not wearing a seatbelt. Some, to my mind very effective, safety adverts were run in the UK, pointing out that in a crash if you’re not wearing a belt, you may injure/kill someone else in the car rather than yourself. I’ve never forgotten that.
September 10th, 2010 @ 7:00 am
Sam: I totally think that is what happened–texting or no, the mud in VT on dirt roads gets weird and thick and grabs your tires and pulls you like you’re on a roller coaster track. She definitely tried to overcorrect–having only 5 months of driving experience, as she later told me…
And I am so hoping as Katie and Julia said, that he was in shock…
September 10th, 2010 @ 7:19 am
I’ve been in five car accidents and been first on the scene of three. Needless to say, I’m a nervous passenger.
Re: the father’s reaction. Maybe it’s his crisis mode (though the girl’s reluctance to contact her parents indicate it’s not).
My husband, a normally warm and empathetic person, is cold and bureaucratic during crises. I was in a car wreck where my tiny hatchback was rearended by a tractor trailer going 40 miles an hour. When my husband arrived on the scene, he checked on the car and talked to the tow truck driver AT LENGTH before checking on me. And then the first thing he said was not “Thank God you’re OK” but “Have you called the insurer yet? It’s the first thing you’re supposed to do. I can’t believe you haven’t called.” I was ready to be taken to the hospital but he insisted on calling the insurer FIRST and spent 25 minutes on the phone. Things went downhill from there…
As the years have passed and unfortunately there have been more accidents and some medical crises, I’ve come to see that packing away all emotion and tenderness is his way of coping with shock. He prefers to deal with mechanical things and bureaucratic processes he can control: paperwork, procedures, etc.
I won’t say I’ve fully made peace with that, but I know he is not going to change.
September 10th, 2010 @ 7:53 am
Oh my goodness, what a scene to have come upon — and the way you dealt with it is quite admirable. Being a mom to 3 sons, two who are now barely out of their teenage years, and one still in the throes of them — it is my biggest fear and deepest horror that something happen to them which I can’t control, such as a car accident or illness. Reading that fathers reaction is disturbing, but I am hoping it’s his way of dealing through his shock. In any case YOU did GOOD and SHE will NEVER forget you. {{{hugs}}}
September 10th, 2010 @ 8:39 am
A few years ago I was stopped at a red light when suddenly I was hit from behind. There was a truck between my small car and the small pickup that had caused the accident, and, thankfully, he had seen it coming and manuevered so I would not receive full impact. The guy in the middle truck had seen the teenage boy speeding toward the light, not braking, and had seen him in his rearview mirror as he hit. He wasn’t wearing a seatbelt and he was thrown around pretty good and had a bump on his head. It all could have been so much worse. I don’t know what was going on that this kid didn’t notice the red light or the other cars stopped. I suspect he was texting. I wondered, but I couldn’t be angry with him. I was just worried. He looked about the same age as my oldest son. I asked him to stay still, to stop pacing around and looking at his truck. He was shaking so badly, but he wouldn’t listen. I was relieved when EMS arrived and forced him to sit and be examined. In the inconvenience of being late to pick up my daughter, in all the mess that followed with his insurance company trying to shirk responsibility or blame the driver of the middle vehicle, all I could really think about was how glad I was that kid was okay.
I’m glad you were there to help this girl. Someone needed to give her a hug and comfort and reassure her. Maybe her dad was just too overwhelmed by what *could* have happened.
September 10th, 2010 @ 9:39 am
Wow. I had no words for a few minutes – that will be something that your boys, at least Bean remember for a long time. So thankful that she was not seriously hurt – and good job keeping your head in that situation.
I never text and drive and rarely talk on the phone while driving. I work in Illinois where they have a law prohibiting texting or talking on phones while in work or school zones.
September 10th, 2010 @ 10:19 am
SO glad it was YOU that found her and helped her. Just what that poor girl needed. I totally understand the urge to text or talk on the phone while driving, but since it’s now illegal, thank goodness, hopefully that will help decrease these kinds of accidents. Poor chickie—I hope her father’s reaction was shock, for her sake.
September 10th, 2010 @ 11:06 am
My sister was in a (relatively minor) accident as a teenager. When the police arrived and called our mother for her, she said “my Mom is going to kill me” in the melodramatic way of teens. Mom got there and started to rush to my sister, whom she could see was crying and upset, and the cop blocked her path. He kept telling her over and over that no one was hurt and that was the important thing. Mom said she couldn’t figure out why he wouldn’t let her go, wouldn’t let her get to her kid who obviously needed her, and then it dawned on her that he thought she was going to yell at my sister. Makes you wonder what his experience with parents at accident scenes was.
September 10th, 2010 @ 2:47 pm
Wow. That is a lot to process. I’m so glad that you were there, and that she is going to be okay.
September 10th, 2010 @ 9:16 pm
Wow. Way to stay cool and take care of things, Christina.
Seatbelts! Three teenagers died in a wreck here on Wednesday. Four kids in the car, none of them wearing seatbelts.
September 14th, 2010 @ 4:50 pm
I feel compelled to defend the Dad—-for all any of us know, this might not have been this girl’s first accident. That was the FIRST thing I thought of—that and maybe he was NUMB or he’s just a guy who waits til all the chaos is over before he emotes. I don’t know what my Dad would haev done in a similar situation but not being the most emotive guy, I don’t know if he would have come up and hugged me.
Anyway.. re: texting. HIGHLY disturbing. I commute 45 miles every day (which believe it or not takes me 1.5 to 2 hours) and I’m convinced that the duration of my commute has increased BECAUSE of people texting (OR READING THE NEWSPAPER I kid you not)… Just because one is only going 10-15 miles an hour doesn’t mean it’s time to chill and take your eyes off the road. It is SO easy to get a fender bender in traffic like that…and it happens EVERY DAY…and I’m convinced it’s because of all the people (adults, executives, moms, and all) who are either texting or web-surfing on their i-phones.
It’s like people have no self control.
(P.S. My mom was in a 1 car crash in May. It was only the seatbelt that saved her. Very important!!!)