Saturday, November 1, 2008


I drove to Nampa recently. For those unfamiliar with the trip, it's around 350 miles each way, mostly through a bunch of desert. It's an easy journey -- pretty much just go north, then merge west -- and entirely freeway. The speed limit is 75mph most of the way.

Driving back a few days later, the weather was still nice and our travel had been pretty uneventful. Then, just outside of Snowville, a dust funnel formed perhaps a quarter mile ahead of us. I had no idea where it came from at first. Then a rapidly spinning car appeared through the dust. I hit the brakes, knowing we would likely be first responders to a terrible accident. I hoped the occupants were wearing seat belts.

It was probably the first out-of-town trip I've made in eight years without a first aid kit in the car. I've often wondered how much help I could be with a handful of 4" gauze pads, a bunch of Band-Aids, and the little single-use antibiotic creams in a freeway-speed accident, but have also decided it's far better to have those things than not.

By the time we stopped, the car was no longer on the road. We ran to the edge of the hill at the side of the freeway where the vehicle must have driven off the road. I expected the worst, but hoped the car had absorbed most of the impact, leaving the occupants in decent condition. I never could have expected what we saw there: absolutely nothing except more of the mostly-flat fields we'd been driving through for hours. Looked like maybe a barbed-wire fence had been broken through, and perhaps the dirt had been adjusted some. But no mangled car. No car at all.

I may wonder for the rest of my life what happened there.


Anonymous said...

Wow, that is amazing. I am reminded of several incidents with my mother growing up. While in Salt Lake City for the first few years of my life, mom and I rode the bus everywhere. When we moved to Idaho, I was 7 or 8. Mom and I needed a car, and the Faithful Lord provided for us a 70's Nova. It was in great shape, never leaked, but over time the tires grew thin and for one fall morning. We were living on a ranch and mom and I were headed to school. We had a turn on a sharp embanked entrance/exit and this cold morning, our tires slid us off this steep embankment. We stopped at a 45 degree angle, and mom opened the door and had us both climb out on the lower side. When we had our car rescued, the men pulling it out asked if the car had lost control, there was no way this didn't roll. But we, having survived the accident, stated simply that there must've been an angel with us that day.

Jason M.

Debi said...

Jason, I cannot imagine what your mom was experiencing during those moments as she was facing not just personal danger, but danger for her son, too. I'm glad you both made it out!