October 12, 2012 will probably be indelibly imprinted on my mind for the rest of my life. It started like many other of my mornings. Early. But it was a little different, as we had some plans to do a garage sale. Everyone was out of school, except for Ashley, on intercession break. It promised to be an easy-going day...with a boy scout camp-out getting canceled, it being the last of Ashley's softball stint, and having bored kids planning their own agendas. I was going to do a garage sale with my friend Lisa at her home in Deer Park. And Cameron, my little entrepreneur, was determined that he was going to be selling a bunch of his stuff as well. He stayed up late to help load the truck with our boxes of clothes, shoes, books, banquet tables, and an assortment of miscellaneous items. When we left the house at 6:30am, dropped Ashley off at seminary, we were on to the north side for the big event. We stopped and fueled the truck (a whopping $105!), got some breakfast at Jack in the Box, and went to Lisa's to set up. It was chilly most of the day, but when the sun came out, loads of people stopped to shop for deals.
We were making a little money on the odds and ends, and Cameron was the best salesman. He solicited people to his corner of the yard to look the items he commandeered to sell--DVD players, speakers, and soda pop. One guy came and bought all of Lisa's folks' TVs and then all of our DVD players. Cameron had some speakers that he was interested in as well, but he told Cameron that he would be back to get them after he got some more cash. You know how that goes with a garage sale...you think they're not coming back. Well...this guy did. He loaded everything up and gave Cam a $4 tip for helping. Cameron had been telling him that he was a boy scout and was saving up to go to the National Jamboree. The guy said he had been a scout as well and told him that the tip money was his play money that he didn't have to account to the wife for and that he wanted to give it to Cameron for his scout trip. Cameron was really impressed and excited. The guy said that he'd buy the speakers as well, but wouldn't know if he could until his wife got home, in an hour or so. But it was getting close to dinner time and we'd already missed lunch. Jeff had called and wanted to know what time we were coming home. We loaded the truck and Cameron lingered, hoping the guy would come back for his speakers. I called it quits a few minutes before 5pm. We thanked Lisa and headed down the road for home.
We passed a sheriff in the parking lot of the elementary school near their house and the thought crossed my mind that I needed to be careful tonight. I was out of my normal stomping ground and wasn't familiar with the fluctuations in all speed limits. We were in not in a hurry to get back to the crew, since they'd already eaten dinner and were onto the nightly rounds of XBOX. Cameron was great company and had made a few dollars in his efforts that day. We were definitely going to treat ourselves.
As I got a little further down the road, another thought went through my head--we don't live in north Spokane anymore--and that I was taking the
wrong road home; I should turn around and go back through Deer Park and pick up Hwy 2 instead. But as I was talking to Cameron and we decided that we were going to stop and get something to eat, and there would be more choices going into Spokane than through the hills and fields below Greenbluff.
The intersection was busy at Dalton and 395. Lots of cars were heading north, probably on their way homes from work. Cameron felt bad that the guy hadn't come back to pick up the speakers and I assured him that we'd do another garage sale in the future. I was more interested in what we were going to have for dinner. He had worked hard that day and I thought we should get something really good. We were only a couple of miles down the road when he said--"Mom, that car isn't moving!" There, in the lane, was what appeared to be a parked car. There was no flashing indicator lights and it definitely wasn't moving to turn yet because of the flow of the oncoming vehicles. We had just reached 60 miles an hour and we seemed to come up on it rather quickly, as it wasn't moving at all. I knew I couldn't brake fast enough to avoid them in time, so I opted to go to the right side of the lane, to go around the stopped vehicle. But when my back tire went off the asphalt and hit the soft shoulder, it caused me to fish-tail to the left, then the right, then back to the left. It was like a scene in a movie where you try turning the wheel and nothing happens. The on-coming traffic seemed to be coming in droves and I tried to level the truck into the center of my lane. Nothing seemed to work and before I knew it, we were spinning to the left, and my back end was getting front of me. I saw the entire side a green minivan traveling north. I had a sick feeling I was going to hit them. I waited for the crash sounds and then saw another vehicle to my now right side. I thought it was a Toyota 4-runner. And before I knew what happened, we were turned around backwards (or so I think), and rolling and flipping down into a culvert and across a farm field.
In the revolutions of the turning and pounding, we saw the grasses up close, the brown dirt, and breaking glass. The truck finally came to a stop with an awful silence. I had dirt and rocks in my mouth and we were on our side. I couldn't see out of my windshield because it was crumpled into an aqua blue color with thousands of breaks and gashes in it. Cameron looked like he was sitting on the ground and had blood on his arm. He reached up and turned the truck off. I just breathed, asked him if he was OK and tried to assess what was going on around me. He looked shaken, but seemed OK otherwise, and he was my greatest concern at that moment. I told him to call 911. He had his phone in one hand and mine in the other. Everything from my purse and the console had fallen down into his area. He was sharp and ready to react. He called his dad and told him that we'd been in an accident and started to call 911 with the other phone. I was held in my seat by the seat belt, but because the truck was sideways, I was literally hanging from the ceiling now.
Jeff asked Cameron where we were and Cameron said he didn't know. We'd only left the Becksteads' a few minutes before and Cameron said that we were somewhere on 395. Jeff quickly called David and Lisa and said that we'd been in an accident and he didn't know where we were and asked if they could drive down Division and give him a location.
Before long, the truck seemed to be surrounded by voices. Someone tried to put their fingers through the gash in the windshield. Then I saw fingers wrapped in a t-shirt and trying to pull the glass out. It wasn't coming. She asked how many people were in the truck and if we were OK. Cameron said he was scared and had to get out. Lots of people had run down to the truck to help and were pulling all of the boxes and tables out of the back. Cameron crawled through the back doors and sat down on the ground. He was definitely rattled and started taking pictures of the truck. Men were crawling over the top of the truck, looking for ways in. The impact had left only one way out, and there I was...hanging--literally.
A man came in and said he was going to help me. He was so calm and collected--like he did this kind of thing everyday. He stood, straddling the console and held me up, telling me where to put my hands to support myself, as the seat belt was unbuckled. He lowered me, legs first to stand on what was my passenger door. Because I had had the seats down for the boxes, I was able to walk across the windows and out the doors in the back. The anonymous good Samaritan asked if I was hurt and did a quick verbal assessment. They're were many others that had stopped that wanted to know if we were OK. With all of the medics, fire department, state patrol, and sheriff arriving within seconds of each other, my ministering angel disappeared and I missed out on thanking him and the other men that risked their own lives to get us out to safety.
My blood pressure was off the charts, my elbow had some road rash and bruising, but otherwise I was holding it together until what happened dawned on me. It was pure adrenalin. Cameron was already filling in the details with the sheriff and trooper on what happened as the medics cleaned up his bloody arm. A woman, who reminded me of my oldest sister, came up and hugged me and said that she was the driver of the stopped car I had missed hitting. I think she was deeply moved by the wreck and was very grateful that I had not hit her because--being so much bigger than her--I probably would have pushed her directly into the line of on-coming traffic and this story would not have had a happy ending. She knew it. And I knew it. As it turns out she was also the one trying to get through the windshield to help me. She lives just across the street from the field we plowed through and was almost home when this happened.
Minutes later, our friends--Dave and Lisa, whose house we'd just come from--showed up. They were comforting us and assuring us that Jeff knew and was on his way. Lisa had just given me some of her beautiful jars of fresh canned pie filling and sauces--and, ironically, they were laying in the dirt, unbroken. It's a miracle that the articles in the boxes hadn't come forward and clocked us in the heads. It still boggles my minds that for rolling and impacting the hard surface the way we did, we didn't have any broken bones, concussions, or worse. As we were assessed and giving statements, Dave and Lisa gathered our belongings together and transferred them to their vehicle before the tow company arrived.
Jeff got there before the tow company did. Talking to the officers, they went over my account of what happened. What felt like 6 rolls to me, was determined to actually be only one. The twisting and sliding was a lot more than the actual flipping event. He said that if I had rolled 6 times, there would be car parts all of the field...and there wasn't. But when you are spinning and whacking the ground, you can't tell which end is which until it's over. We were left pointing west and laying on the passenger side of the truck. We had a full tank of gas and thank God we didn't puncture it in all the turning.
Bless Cameron's heart, but a picture of the truck on it's side with the message saying--"been in an accident but we're OK"--didn't do any favors for Jeff's heart and mind. I can't speak for Jeff...but in the couple days since this horrific night, we've both shed many tears of shock and gratitude that I was the only vehicle involved--as the traffic was heavy, that I was in the truck and not the car, that Cameron was so quick-thinking and collected to turn the motor off, that we were miraculously turned and flipped into a field and not the roadway, that the truck saved us during the impacts, that so many people rushed to help, and that we were spared going any further into the field, stopping just feet away from a cement dumping ground for old pavement. We would have been really hurt if we'd rolled into that. The list of miracles still amazes me and gets longer and longer when I think about how many ways this whole event could have ended. I was lucky because I got to go home to my kids that night. Nobody else was involved or hurt, despite the hundreds of cars that were on the road at that moment. I was fish-tailed and turned through the cars, missing every one of them, that could have driven at 60mph into me, as well. During the rollover, the roof of the truck caved in on the passenger side, but the arm of the structure that holds the windshield to the frame, withstood the force and did not allow it to crush us. Holy miracle! Now the windshield...that's another story!
The medics and law enforcement officers suggested that we take an ambulance to the hospital. That would have been a little more exciting for Cameron, but we felt like we could go with Jeff. As we were leaving, it was shocking to watch another car almost take out the car in front of them, as we watched from the field. The smell of rubber was potent in the air and he was probably thinking he was pretty lucky not to join us down the enbankment! And that driver was lucky that the WSP trooper, sitting on the corner, was up to his nose in the accident reports he was filling out in his car. We are extremely fortunate that we fared as well as we did. Every responder said that they couldn't believe we were walking and talking. They'd been to crash sites with far less damage where there had been fatalities. The trooper said the suburban was our lifesaver. It's still a shock, and I know that the truck is not a living entity--but I feel a deep sense of loss and mourning for it, because it was such a good find and fit for our family's needs. How badly it took a beating is one of the many miracles of the night as well. I can honestly say we were being watched over and as another young responder said...it just wasn't our time to go.
Because we were considered a trauma case, we were taken right back to a room immediately, when we got to the ER. I didn't have any pain in my neck at that point, but my shoulder--where the seat belt was--was starting to kill me. Cameron complained of a headache and pain in the center of his neck. They put us in neck braces immediately and started ultrasounds; followed by cat scans and x-rays. Cameron got his first IV and wasn't too pleased about it. Apparently he doesn't like needles ;)
The doctor thought I had blood around my left kidney. The scan showed that it was just a cyst. Ironically, there are cysts on both kidneys. I'm sure that will be a whole 'nother story later, but everything else was sound and where it belonged, in both of us. Because Cameron's neck hurt in the location it did, the doctors ordered additional x-rays to make sure that a fracture wasn't missed. They sent copies of his x-rays home with us. I have to chuckle...because you can see the metal braces on his teeth in the pictures. (Looking good, by the way!)
We're both sore and feeling the stiffness of whiplash. As one co-worker told Jeff tonight when he got to work, at least he's not planning funerals. It's a sick thought that accidents can change everything in literally a blink of an eye. But I've no doubt that we were watched over from above and that angels surrounded us as were thrown around and eventually dumped in a field off the side of the highway.
The kindness of others is overwhelming. Our Relief Society president brought dinner over on Saturday, and Lisa brought us pizza today...all the way from Deer Park! Some neighbors stopped by to see if the kids needed a ride to church. The calls haven't stopped and even our Bishop responded immediately after hearing what happened by showing up on the doorstep...only to find us out filling prescriptions. The kids are more kind and loving and what could have been is still fresh in our thoughts. Cameron had quite an impression made in his young life. He acknowledges the miracles that saved us and will probably be the most cautious driver ever!
When the doctor was leaving our room Friday night, he turned and asked Jeff if we'd get another Suburban after tonight. Without a pause or delay, Jeff said absolutely yes. It's built to protect the cargo, and when you're most important cargo is your family...there's no "yes" or "no" to think about. I prefer the ones with angelic upgrades and running boards ;)
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