nirad3
Footballguy
That crazy thread about the near-miss in Phoenix got me thinking....
It was in the evening of January 31st, 2004... night before Super Bowl Sunday. I was out with a great college friend of mine and her husband. I oftentimes played third wheel to them as they were newlyweds and we had a ton of mutual friends that would eventually meet up with us. We were at dinner when the hubby got a call from his best HS friend, Anthony. Anthony and a work friend of his were planning a trip down to TJ (that's Tijuana, Mexico... for those that don't know, it's just over the border from San Diego and has a ton of dirty, scummy bars and trashed co-eds). He wanted to know if he wanted to go.. he declined, but said that I was with them and would probably go. Anthony and his friend ended up picking me up and we grabbed a case of Coors Light for road sodas for the 90-minute jaunt down to TJ.
We partied in TJ all night. Anthony's buddy (let's call him Jeff... you'll see why later) is the nephew of a politician in Mexico, speaks fluent Spanish, etc. etc... so he knows all the good spots where the drinks are SUPER cheap or free. Knows the spots where the girls are at. Let's just say we had a good time, all through the night.
The sun comes up and we are beat. It is Super Bowl Sunday, so we know we eventually have to make our way north back to Orange County, as there were Super Bowl parties to attend, etc. So we started walking back to Anthony's truck and discussing who was going to drive, or if we should just pitch in for a cheap border motel to crash for a few hours. Jeff said that he hadn't had a drop of alcohol in hours and was fine to drive. So off we went. Anthony passed out in the front seat and me in the back.
About 20-30 minutes in, I decided to take off my seatbelt and lay down. It was one of those 4-door Chevy Silverados. 10 or so minutes later, we woke up to Jeff swerving in his lane. Anthony was like "dude, pay attention!". It was likely only minutes after that where Jeff fell asleep at the wheel again and drifted from the fast lane all the way to the right shoulder, going up an embankment and flipping the truck.
The truck landed on its right side, crushing the entire right side of the cab. All I remember is hearing screaming, tasting dirt and going black. I woke up to someone pulling me out of the wreckage. Fortunately, an EMT had been driving behind us and saw the whole thing. He pulled me out and then the fire engine and ambulance showed up.
The truck was a mess. The whole thing was destroyed. Jeff and I were sitting on the edge of the I-5 freeway wondering what the heck happened, and most importantly, where was Anthony? There was a crew of 4-5 firemen and paramedics at the truck, trying to get him out apparently.
My shoes had come off somehow. My ankles were swelled to the size of cantaloupes. I had some cuts, bruises, etc.... but I was OK. Jeff didn't have a scratch.
Next thing I know I was on a stretcher and in an ambulance. Jeff was on one too, same ambulance. We asked "where is Anthony?" and the EMTs replied "sorry guys, he didn't make it." We both instantly started crying.
Jeff and I made it to the emergency room and were laying on adjacent beds. Docs were looking me over, Jeff was just sitting there... and then the cops came to get him and off he went.
I spent the day in X-rays, MRIs, etc. My body was apparently in shock at the accident scene because I actually felt OK, but then the more the day went on, the worse I felt. They feared multiple internal injuries to organs, etc. Turns out I just had a hairline fracture in my last vertebrae (the "butterfly"), a broken rib, and a severe concussion.
I spent the night in the hospital, and had the "pleasure" on being on a morphine drip and watching the "NippleGate" Super Bowl. I honestly thought I was trippin' when I saw Janet Jackson's stuff.
The California Highway Patrol had apparently been on scene for another accident on the I-5 earlier that morning that had resulted in TWO fatalities and the third passenger was in a coma. THAT is what was told to not only my friends but to my parents as well. For an hour there they didn't know if I was alive and in a coma or dead. Finally they got the right info and raced down to see me in the hospital. I went home the next day.
For a few months I couldn't even get in and out of bed. I slept on a recliner.
I went to Anthony's funeral. He had been crushed and died on impact. I had only been to one funeral in my life... for my grandma, who had passed several months prior (more on this in a sec)
I went to court, with the possibility of testifying in Jeff's case. The case was settled. He got 3-4 years in prison for vehicular manslaughter and had the DUI (he blew a .085) taken off.
I never saw or talked to Jeff again. I don't wish any ill will on him, I'm sure he has never been the same after basically killing one of his good friends. He should have pulled off the freeway and told one of us to drive or got the hotel.
I can still hear Anthony's scream. I can still taste dirt sometimes. Somehow, my road rash on my back went away. Doctors had said it would scar.
To this day I feel my Grandma was there. Something... call it gravity, force, whatever... but something pushed me down into the area where your feet go in the cab of that truck. Had I been still sitting up, I would have been crushed too. My feet got mangled, my back and side hit the "hump" thing. Hell, had I still been in the position laying in the back seat, my legs may have been totally crushed.
Sorry for the long post, it's been cathartic to type this out, as my college friend's hubby, who lost his best friend, has never wanted to talk to me about this. I still talk about this with a therapist from time to time.
Bottom line, don't drive if you feel affected by alcohol. Even if it's "just" making you sleepy.
It was in the evening of January 31st, 2004... night before Super Bowl Sunday. I was out with a great college friend of mine and her husband. I oftentimes played third wheel to them as they were newlyweds and we had a ton of mutual friends that would eventually meet up with us. We were at dinner when the hubby got a call from his best HS friend, Anthony. Anthony and a work friend of his were planning a trip down to TJ (that's Tijuana, Mexico... for those that don't know, it's just over the border from San Diego and has a ton of dirty, scummy bars and trashed co-eds). He wanted to know if he wanted to go.. he declined, but said that I was with them and would probably go. Anthony and his friend ended up picking me up and we grabbed a case of Coors Light for road sodas for the 90-minute jaunt down to TJ.
We partied in TJ all night. Anthony's buddy (let's call him Jeff... you'll see why later) is the nephew of a politician in Mexico, speaks fluent Spanish, etc. etc... so he knows all the good spots where the drinks are SUPER cheap or free. Knows the spots where the girls are at. Let's just say we had a good time, all through the night.
The sun comes up and we are beat. It is Super Bowl Sunday, so we know we eventually have to make our way north back to Orange County, as there were Super Bowl parties to attend, etc. So we started walking back to Anthony's truck and discussing who was going to drive, or if we should just pitch in for a cheap border motel to crash for a few hours. Jeff said that he hadn't had a drop of alcohol in hours and was fine to drive. So off we went. Anthony passed out in the front seat and me in the back.
About 20-30 minutes in, I decided to take off my seatbelt and lay down. It was one of those 4-door Chevy Silverados. 10 or so minutes later, we woke up to Jeff swerving in his lane. Anthony was like "dude, pay attention!". It was likely only minutes after that where Jeff fell asleep at the wheel again and drifted from the fast lane all the way to the right shoulder, going up an embankment and flipping the truck.
The truck landed on its right side, crushing the entire right side of the cab. All I remember is hearing screaming, tasting dirt and going black. I woke up to someone pulling me out of the wreckage. Fortunately, an EMT had been driving behind us and saw the whole thing. He pulled me out and then the fire engine and ambulance showed up.
The truck was a mess. The whole thing was destroyed. Jeff and I were sitting on the edge of the I-5 freeway wondering what the heck happened, and most importantly, where was Anthony? There was a crew of 4-5 firemen and paramedics at the truck, trying to get him out apparently.
My shoes had come off somehow. My ankles were swelled to the size of cantaloupes. I had some cuts, bruises, etc.... but I was OK. Jeff didn't have a scratch.
Next thing I know I was on a stretcher and in an ambulance. Jeff was on one too, same ambulance. We asked "where is Anthony?" and the EMTs replied "sorry guys, he didn't make it." We both instantly started crying.
Jeff and I made it to the emergency room and were laying on adjacent beds. Docs were looking me over, Jeff was just sitting there... and then the cops came to get him and off he went.
I spent the day in X-rays, MRIs, etc. My body was apparently in shock at the accident scene because I actually felt OK, but then the more the day went on, the worse I felt. They feared multiple internal injuries to organs, etc. Turns out I just had a hairline fracture in my last vertebrae (the "butterfly"), a broken rib, and a severe concussion.
I spent the night in the hospital, and had the "pleasure" on being on a morphine drip and watching the "NippleGate" Super Bowl. I honestly thought I was trippin' when I saw Janet Jackson's stuff.
The California Highway Patrol had apparently been on scene for another accident on the I-5 earlier that morning that had resulted in TWO fatalities and the third passenger was in a coma. THAT is what was told to not only my friends but to my parents as well. For an hour there they didn't know if I was alive and in a coma or dead. Finally they got the right info and raced down to see me in the hospital. I went home the next day.
For a few months I couldn't even get in and out of bed. I slept on a recliner.
I went to Anthony's funeral. He had been crushed and died on impact. I had only been to one funeral in my life... for my grandma, who had passed several months prior (more on this in a sec)
I went to court, with the possibility of testifying in Jeff's case. The case was settled. He got 3-4 years in prison for vehicular manslaughter and had the DUI (he blew a .085) taken off.
I never saw or talked to Jeff again. I don't wish any ill will on him, I'm sure he has never been the same after basically killing one of his good friends. He should have pulled off the freeway and told one of us to drive or got the hotel.
I can still hear Anthony's scream. I can still taste dirt sometimes. Somehow, my road rash on my back went away. Doctors had said it would scar.
To this day I feel my Grandma was there. Something... call it gravity, force, whatever... but something pushed me down into the area where your feet go in the cab of that truck. Had I been still sitting up, I would have been crushed too. My feet got mangled, my back and side hit the "hump" thing. Hell, had I still been in the position laying in the back seat, my legs may have been totally crushed.
Sorry for the long post, it's been cathartic to type this out, as my college friend's hubby, who lost his best friend, has never wanted to talk to me about this. I still talk about this with a therapist from time to time.
Bottom line, don't drive if you feel affected by alcohol. Even if it's "just" making you sleepy.
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