In 1987 I was home on leave and driving a '77 F150 with my father behind me in a Grand Am. A suburban crossed the center line and sideswiped me and flipped the truck onto its passenger side. The truck didn't have seat belts anymore and back then I was never one to use them anyway. I recall every second of that day and remember distinctly the feeling of anxiety and fear as I traveled off the side of the road while starring at the ground moving by me in the now missing passenger window area. I managed to not get caught in the opening as the vehicle continued forward until hitting a telephone pole and crushing the driver’s side of the cab just above me. I scrambled out of the broken back window as fast as I could, knowing that my father would be worried that I was hurt or killed. Looking over the back of the truck I saw the suburban and my dad’s Grand Am fused together. Very few times in my life has time seemed to pass by me so fast as I moved in slow motion but on this particular day it did. When I reached my dad he seemed to be gasping for breath and staring straight ahead. I removed his seatbelt and checked for a pulse but by then it was too late and I’m sure he was gone instantly.
The accident made the local news but I wasn’t concerned with watching it until I started hearing the “If he were wearing his seatbelt” remarks. Seems the news reported that the police report said that he was not wearing his seat belt and it would have saved his life if he was. It also reported that I was able to walk away because I was wearing mine. Enraged I called the news station and complained but they said they were only following the police report. I called the investigator who said the officer was the first responder and noted no seat belt on my father and that for me to survive I must have been wearing mine. I kindly informed him that I was actually the first responder and the report was flawed at best. He began to inform me of exactly what a first responder was when I interrupted him and asked if he wanted my badge number and duty location to confirm my status as a certified first responder. He told me that even if I were trained I was not emotionally capable at the moment to function in such a manner and cited a comment in the report where I was unable to remember the other driver in the suburban. I had to point out that what I actually said was that the other vehicle had no visible driver. That seem to bolster his argument (at least in his mind) and he tried to argue that it would be impossible for the vehicle to operate without a driver. I said “It would if he had passed out and slumped to the side where he would no longer be visible”. I then asked about the BAT and was told that they were waiting on him to regain conciseness to get consent. I told them that they better find a f#$king judge before I find the sleaziest ambulance chaser I can and take them for everything the county has. 12 hrs after the accident he had a BAC of almost .2. The investigator asked me if I had checked on the other driver and I told him no. He asked why and I told him he was not of concern to me and if I were to have checked on him and discovered he was drunk I would have killed him. He said “Then you would have been arrested.” I told him “I had a 10 minute window of opportunity.” “You would never have known.” The conversation ended there.
About a year later I flew back from Germany for the trial. The judge asked if we had anything to say before sentencing and my mother stood up and told the man that she forgave him because that is what Jesus would want from her. Then I was asked if I had any words. I stood as my widowed mother held my hand and he looked over at me with tears in his eyes. I turned to him and said “I will see you in Hell!” and sat back down. For some reason he looked shocked. I’m not sure why but I can only assume he thought that I would follow the “WWJD” mantra but I guess he failed to realize that I’m not Jesus.
The judge looked over at him and sentenced him to 12 months with time being served between the 6 months in county and his 6 month out on bond and his license revoked for 12 months. So basically he walked from the court room owing no more time and able to get his license that day. My father was a 30 year army veteran, served 2 tours in Korea and one in Vietnam. His life, according to the courts, was worth 6 months total jail time. For the rest of my life I will always regret a missed opportunity.
Ridiculous, isn't it? You take a life and get relatively little punishment.
ReplyDeleteBack in 1986 my best friend was killed in an impaired driving accident. He was 18 years old and had his whole life ahead of him. The driver of the car received probation and a fine. I was sentenced to a lifetime of "what if....."
You would have liked my friend. His easy going, generous nature made him a popular figure. He had a sense of humor that would brighten your darkest day. He also had a knack for assigning clever nicknames. He used to call me Sgt Patty O'Leary because I always had short, almost police regulation haircuts. The summer of 1986 brought the Kim Mitchell hit, Patio Lanterns. My nicknamed quickly changed to Sgt Patty O'Lantern.
We used to take good care of our father's cars, and they were always the envy of the neighborhood. We vowed that we would show our first new vehicle ever purchased to one another, before anyone else.
I never got that chance.
My last new vehicle was my present 2013 F150. I was caught up in that moment and didn't realise that I had purchased the truck on his 45th birthday, June 18. While out for the first tour, Patio Lanterns played on my phone through SYNC. I realised once more that he would never see any new vehicle I ever purchased. You'd think that the pain would be gone or at least easier to take by now, but that'd be wrong.
I bought new 4x4 logos for my truck with the nickname he gave me on them. So it will almost be like he's along for the ride. But sadly, I'd prefer him in person, not just in spirit.
Probation for a life. I can't forgive that. Not while I am serving a life sentence of grief and loss.