There have been several life altering events in my life, but one that stands out is when I went with my parents to pick up my brother from school. It was a normal trip until we got back on the interstate after getting gas. Traffic came to an abrupt halt, and heads turned to see the cause. First we saw a motorcycle helmet laying on the side of the road. The plastic panel was broken, and the helmet itself was nearly in two. No less than half a mile up the road, you see an ambulance, a police car, and a firetruck all blocking off a small square. While driving by, we saw a pink skeet strewn over something on the side of the road. Upon closer inspection, I saw a bloodied hand and a large pool of blood sticking out from under the sheet. At that time I was 15, and I had just passed my driving permit exam. Similarly to Duncan, that event has stayed with me ever sense, and when I see someone on the interstate on a motorcycle, thats what I am reminded of. After an event so traumatic, you would assume the news would say something. After all, this person was someone’s child, maybe someone’s parent. I never saw anything to speak of this
Two days before my senior year, I was involved in a car accident. I was in absolute shock; I couldn’t believe what just happened. A man turned into the wrong lane and hit us head on. I thought about what happened in total disbelief and realized I could have died due to the actions of a negligent driver. I jumped out of the passenger side of the car and screamed. After I calmed down, I asked myself what my name, address and phone number was to make sure I knew who and where I was. My mom got out of the car and I saw her arm covered in glass and blood. I then saw my sister in the backseat screaming and crying. It felt horrible witnessing them going through this traumatic experience.
It all happened so quickly. One moment, a boy was waving to his friends, and the next, he was lying in the street. I heard the screech of brakes and a loud crash. The car’s windscreen was completely shattered. People were screaming and crying, and without thinking, I ran into the street, knelt down beside him, and called 911.
I just could not believe what happened. My night was going so good, then all of a sudden it turned into a nightmare. The entire ride home I just stared out the window at the pitch black sky. My dad and I never spoke a word the whole time. When we approached the place where I wrecked, I tensed up and closed my eyes. It made me sick to my stomach to see the truck upside down. The next thing I knew we were pulling into my driveway. When I got inside, I hugged my dad and told him I loved him and I was sorry for what happened. I then did what the nurse said and went in the shower. As I stood in the shower with the warm water hitting my face, the accident kept playing over and over in my head. With all of the glass and dirt washed out of my hair, I went to bed. It was beyond relaxing to lay in my bed. I layed there for a few moments,then slowly drifted to
My dad was what you’d call a “big, tough guy”. He never cried, and very seldom did he show much emotion at all. He took a minute to compose himself and got straight to the point. He told us that my cousin Mackenzie, my best friend ever since I was a baby, had been killed. She was at a different campground in Spooner, Wisconsin, when the storm broke off the top of a tree. Mackenzie was playing on a playground, just a little girl on the swings on what started out as just a normal Friday, when she heard the crack of that tree and started running. It fell on top of her and killed her on impact. The doctors said the hit cracked her skull and she died
When I was a teenager during the 1970s, the younger sister of a friend of mine died from injuries she sustained when she was hit by a car. Shortly after the accident, the girl’s dad happened to drive past the area where the accident had occurred. As he drove by, he couldn’t see what was going on because there were emergency vehicles that were blocking his view. He said a prayer for anyone who might have been injured in the accident and drove home. He learned later that the person he had prayed for was his daughter.
After the accident I expected William to run off into the woods like a scared, traumatised little boy. But he didn’t. He stayed. The doctors told me that I had a seventy percent chance of ever walking again. Depression enveloped me like a shroud of darkness and William was the pinprick of light at the end of the tunnel. Everyday I endured immense pain, both physically and mentally. At the hospital there was a nurse named Misha, he was a religious man and his kindness radiated wherever he went. One night when it was particularly hard, he prayed. I don't know if there is a God or if it was just my own determination and trust, but slowly after a vast amount of physical therapy and days where I couldn’t move from
I fondly remember my horrible crash as well. I crashed because I was riding at my bikes top speed through a tunnel and what I did not know was that there was a sharp left turn at the end of the tunnel that I did not know of. Therefore, I continued straight and right into a hillside off the side of a three foot ledge. The bike flipped on top of me as I fell and crushed me. My lips and cheeks were bleeding slightly, the visor on my helmet was knocked off somewhere, and I was in tears. It was a very good thing I was wearing proper riding gear. Despite the crash we continued riding on for another hour or so. The next day turned to disaster. It started fine but it quickly got worse; it started with a very close call involving a cliff. We were all riding when I fell off my bike and they continued ahead without me. While I struggled and succeeded to get the bike off me and start it, my father and his friend nearly went off of a cliff a turn ahead. Even though that disaster was avoided we had another problem; my father’s bike broke down. My father’s friend and I rode all the way back to the truck and drove it all the way back to where he broke
I can recall the day it happened, like it was yesterday, the air had a certain emptiness to it. It felt cold, barren, but it just felt like any normal rough day, where everything would not go your way. I arrived home from hockey practice like I do every Thursday with my father and was ready to lay down before I did my homework. Then we got the call and we bolted to the emergency room at Mercy Hospital. The nurse took us into a waiting room and we heard the heartbreaking news from the physician and the room went still. It was not a typical quiet but so quiet that you could almost hear your heart pounding out of your chest. When we saw my Mother, and we shockingly gazed what the car crash did to her it was a completely eye-opening. This could not be your Mother; that is all
As I pulled up to my friends house to drive her to school, it was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, weather was nice and while we were sad this day due to the loss of a dear friend, we were both looking forward to things getting back on track with school. A few days prior, our friend, who always wanted to ride a motorcycle, took a ride with a boy she met. This would be her first and last ride. The motorcycle rear ended a stopped car, she was ejected and dragged under an oncoming vehicle to her death. As I picked up my friend for school, March 9, 1989 our dear friend would be laid to rest. We planned to attend her funeral that afternoon and a special event in her honor at our school. While making a left turn into our school parking lot, the plan for the day changed, as a blue sedan going full speed, slammed into the passenger side of my car. The reality of the situation; I turned left in front of an oncoming vehicle.
As a child I grew up in a home with my two parents and two older sisters. I met most developmental milestones at the appropriate age, and I did not have any major childhood illnesses. One of the earliest memories that I can recall was at age 3 or 4. I don’t recall the exact age and I haven’t asked my mother about the event, but I know it was at least before I was school age. I recall that my mother and grandmother were with me and we were standing on the side of a county road near a small bridge. There were police cars and an ambulance parked nearby with their lights flashing. My mother and grandmother were crying hysterically and this was very upsetting to me because I don’t think I had ever saw them cry like that before. The reason that they were crying was that a close friend of my grandmother had drove off the bridge in their
The chances of being in a car crash is only 1 in 5,000. I have never been in one, but I have seen them on the sides of the roads. Tragedy is an unavoidable, and no matter the level of effect it has on a person, it is still impactful. I have been lucky enough to never have had to be a bearer of bad news, but I have had an experience that has come close. This essay is about my experience with true tragedy, and sharing my experiences with others.
At the time of the accident, my family lived about 30 miles from the site. I’d been at home sick that week and had been in the midst of a late afternoon nap when my mother woke me up to watch the breaking news story.
To this date, it was the worst phone call of my life. I was informed my father and stepmother were in a motorcycle accident in Florida where they retired for the winter. My stepmother was expected to have a painful, long recovery, as she suffered from multiple fractures to her face, a dislocated jaw, and pelvis that was broken in 3 places, plus many small cuts and bruises. My father, however, had not awakened after the accident and we should get to the hospital in Florida as soon as possible. My brother, his wife, and I booked flights and we were on our way they next day. It was not how I expected to spend Easter. The next four days were a blur. We met with doctors and nurses and didn’t feel like we had any answers to the real condition of our father. We knew of his injuries but not what they meant to his future. He had bruising between the hemispheres of his brain, on the outside of the brain, bruising on his brainstem, and multiple open fractures on the left side of his body. I couldn’t get any of his doctors to tell me their opinion on his prognosis. They would only say, “we need another 48 hours”. The only thing I could think was, “if you knew my dad, he would hate this. You life flighted him, now he’s hook to machinery to breath, and all he would have wanted was to have the ambulance run him over and put him out of his misery”. We knew my father’s wishes and they didn’t look anything like
Life is unpredictable and an accident can happen anytime. on our way back home from church my dad was driving a black 2012 Toyota Highlander, which is a family car that seven people can ride in it. My younger brother, Taw Nay Gay, and I were sitting on the seat behind the driver seat by the door. My other two younger brothers, Gay Nay Soe and Soe K Maw, sat in the seat behind me, and my mom sat in the front passenger seat. For the first time a nineteen year old girl like me started to believe that I had a reason to live and my life could be taken away anytime. This happened on October first 2017, 7:30 pm when we got into a car accident by the traffic lights intersection. Three cars were damaged, but everyone in the cars were fine.