Every day on my way home I make a left turn from the center of a 4-lane highway. As cars are whizzing by me in both directions, I wait there, thinking: Someone’s flat tire, someone’s text, even someone’s sneeze—could ruin my life. A little neurotic maybe? Inches and instants. What are the chances?
How can you not think about that when you pass Cholame? It’s known for one thing only—the tragic car crash that killed James Dean.
As I pass Cholame I’m on Highway 46, a two-lane highway—where I’m in the middle of a line of slow-moving cars. I can see traffic approaching off in the distance….but inevitably there’s a car or two that will swerve out to the left, pass one car and re-enter the slow moving line….maybe saving seconds but also endangering their lives– and mine. And my mind goes back to that the same place—-life can hinge on inches and instants—what are the chances?
I guess it makes sense that I’m overly neurotic about driving safety— since the day in Manhattan when the windshield of a Volkswagen met my forehead—and stayed there. Decades later, I still agonize over automobiles—especially when they contain my children.
Right now my car contains only me– and I try to relax as I get onto the 5 and then the 210, headed to Palm Springs.
I’m somewhere outside LA surrounded by those endless sprawls of suburbs whose names I never remember— when I see it. It’s one of those surreal moments that unwinds in slow motion–like a bad commercial.
I’m in the second lane on the left. An enormous tire that must have shot off from an 18 wheeler, is spinning from the outside lane towards the far left. It’s going as fast as the cars— speeding across five lanes of traffic.
My life doesn’t flash in front of my eyes but I have time to think— What are the chances?— just as the tire slams into my car.
It feels like I’m hit by the truck—not just the tire.
I manage to maneuver across the freeway and off at the next exit. I’m shaking more than the car.
Inches and instants. What are the chances? That I didn’t swerve to the right or the left and hit another car. That it didn’t bounce over the hood and hit the windshield instead of the bumper. That it didn’t jam under the car.
The car is a mess—but it seems to drive fine. I find a Home Depot—where I get some Gorilla tape to hold the front of the car together.
And I get back on the road. Only now it’s dark and I’m still a few hours away from Palm Springs. Plus there are still lots of enormous trucks on the freeway.
I’m still shaky but I think of one of my favorite movie moments of all time. The scene in “The World According to Garp”–where Garp and his wife are looking at a house to buy, when a plane crashes right into the roof. Garp immediately turns to the real estate agent and says “We’ll take it.” What are the chances it would happen again?
I make it to Palm Springs where my friend Judy gives me a glass of wine. The shaking stops; I’m good to go—and so is my 6000-pound gorilla.
Rick in Miami says
Glad you’re ok…even if shaken a bit. And, it looks like you had the wherewithal to do a really nice repair job!
By the way, while your incident shook you and damaged your car, you might have saved the life of the person behind you. If that person had written a blog today, they too could have said “what are the chances?” with a big thank God and sigh of relief.
Bob Beers says
Just glad to read that you were only shaken and not stirred or injured. In the wake of the avalanche of news in Japan and North Africa/Middle East it was a relief to read about what could have been really dangerous ended up with a friend and a glass of wine.
Darryle Pollack says
Thank you–mostly I’m glad I had the wherewithal to stay in my lane and avoid worse–and really appreciate you giving me another way to see that—makes me feel better thinking I might have saved someone else. Also thinking this is a message from the universe—that it’s time to get a new car.
Darryle Pollack says
Actually I’ve also been thinking about my little escapade especially in light of all the tragic news in Japan—which makes me feel way luckier than I already do. Another reminder that life is a matter of inches and instants and how fast they can alter everything. Amazing also to think an earthquake can alter the planet itself.
marlawentner says
Very quick thinking, Darryle, during the incident, and an extremely creative repair job. Inches and instants are everywhere around us constantly. It does make one have at least a tiny belief in fate, doesn’t it?
Glad you are fine……
Kelly Shoemaker says
DARRYLE! Wow! I’m so glad you lived to tell your story!!! That 46 is a weird drag.
I once came upon a stop sign at an obscure crossroads in the middle of nowhere out there, and an 18-wheeler came barreling behind us. Within “inches and instants” he had time to screech his breaks and move into the next (empty) lane to miss us—as he had the stop sign! Without any damage, it was non-the-less a traumatic moment. I think there’s a stop light there now.
I see you didn’t use camouflage tape on your gorilla.
DuchessOmnium says
Oh, glad you are safe! My younger daughter was meant to spend this year in Japan — only she didn’t manage to finish high school last June so couldn’t go. At the time I thought THAT was a disaster…
Darryle Pollack says
Thanks, Marla. And I think all the near-misses by inches and instants make it almost impossible NOT to believe in fate—
Darryle Pollack says
Haha, will be keeping gorilla tape in my car from now on—will have to track down some camo.
I’ve always hated the 46, and rarely take it anymore. But no matter what road I take, I wish I could avoid trucks, period.
Those near misses can be as traumatizing as the real thing.
Darryle Pollack says
What a relief things worked out the way they did–isn’t it amazing how one’s perspective can change?