This week did NOT go according to plan.
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| This is all of us at a Mexican restaurant on Saturday afternoon. This was likely the most poignant meal we have ever eaten together. |
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Big Sky is one of our favorites. It seems like we haven't done as many travel ski trips this year, and we were all excited to get out of town for a change in scenery. The drive out of town was pleasant in our new car. It's funny how you just get used to all the little quirks and imperfections of the old one, and how it takes something new to really appreciate what a good car can feel like.
We woke up in Bozeman to a bluebird day, ate a quick breakfast at the hotel, and loaded the car for what had every indication of being a joyful day. Jackson, with his recently acquired driver's permit, took the wheel, and I took the seat next to him to offer directions. We were off!
A few minutes later...
The details are that we had a near head-on collision at 45mph with a big truck. It was a Ram 3500, carrying two large snowmobiles. Even with our forward momentum, the weight difference between the two vehicles pushed our car backwards about 60 feet. After several seconds of chaos and a van filled with screams I looked over at Jack. His face was bloody, but he was there, looking back at me, seeming to be all in one piece. And then, one of the scariest moments...maybe THE scariest moment...of my entire life. I looked behind me, not knowing what I would see.
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| Side Note: Lindsey took the picture of Jackson in the driver's seat. This was literally seconds after the car stopped moving. Apparently, we have a young photojournalist in the making. |
"Everyone check yourselves and say your name if you think you're okay."
"I think I'm good. Um...Addy"..."Lindsey"...Evelyn"....."Rachel"..."Maren"..."Jack"..."Logan"
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I got out of the car. And it's strange even to me, but I just took for granted that I was okay. Of course I was okay. That was never even a question. Even though the main area of impact was right in front of me. Even though I had a dashboard sitting in my lap and a truck had literally gone through our windshield- but yeah- no worries. I never even considered...and still find it hard to consider...that maybe something could have happened to me. Out of everything, this is the emotional component that I struggle the most to understand as I write this. It makes me want to look at my own brain.
What I saw when I got out was like a war scene. Debris was everywhere. From the outside, our van was so crunched up that it seemed improbable that there could be seven people inside. Every window was gone. Maren's headphones that she had been wearing seconds before were laying on the road in a mangled heap, several yards away. Our topper had torn the rack off of our car, and ski gear was everywhere; the yard-sale to beat all yard-sales. It was clear that the damage was massive.
And then I saw the truck. Part of it was to my left, with a man lying on the road next to it. The entire front end of the truck was on the other side of the road. I ran to the man on the road and thankfully (THANKFULLY!!!!) he was lucid and, all things considered, in a pretty chill mood. His shoulder was hurting, but nothing else.
And then...mass chaos of people. Fire trucks. Ambulances. Police cars. Onlookers. They had to cut our car into pieces to get everyone out. They took us to the hospital. I was the only one involved who was not admitted as a patient.
Because I am a nerd, and because I had a lot of time to kill at the hospital, I looked up some crash report statistics. It turns out that there is quite a bit of peer-reviewed crash data that is available (NHTSA, IIHS, and the Abbreviated Injury Scale). With the vehicles involved, trajectories, speed, etc...it turns out that a crash like ours has roughly a 35% chance of ending in fatality. Furthermore, there is a 90% chance that there would be a debilitating/life changing injury.
Four hours later, we were all discharged, with instructions to "take it easy for a few days." We basically walked away from it. The driver of the truck will be in a sling for 6 weeks, but otherwise, he's going to be okay.
Both cars, needless to say, are completely totaled. Like, we can't even find all the parts. It took four hours for them to re-open the intersection. We have some logistics to figure out. It's inconvenient. But right now, "inconvenient" seems like a really good place to be.
*****
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In other news, we went and saw the play "Be More Chill." This is one that I'm going to think about for a while, and Stage Left always does such a good job. Bravo. |
