It was hellishly humid by midday following a torrential rain that swelled the creek to near overflow conditions and made road surfaces treacherous with a thin coat of water. I planned to meet a friend in the city but I overslept and ignored the poor road conditions heading into the city at a normal speed. I remember thinking that I should slow my car down; I did but unfortunately not enough.
My 1984 Z-24 Chevy Cavalier flew sideways off the downhill side of the road and slammed into a huge tree splitting its trunk, as well as my car, in two.
The impact sent pieces of my car into neighboring trees as well as splitting the car in half, wrapping sections around the beefy trunk of the tree which was protruding from the debris just behind my seat missing my skull by a few inches. I was trapped inside the claustrophobic one-foot by one-foot portion of the twisted vehicle that had not collapsed. I'm claustrophobic and the space that I was in was barely the size of a small cedar chest. With the rain flowing heavy the car was filling with water and I could smell, distinctly, gasoline mixed with my blood. I fought my fear and tried to maintain my composure.
The first two people that found my car were John and Jerry Austin, a father and son who rarely took this route but due to another road being closed decided to. The only reason they were able to spot me was because they were driving a large sump pump truck. Without hesitating they rushed to help me. John, with tools from his truck, broke out the windshield that was forcing the steering wheel into me. Jerry took off to find a resident on the road to call for help.
Minutes after Jerry left firefighters responded and came on scene. They stumbled down the steep incline and attached steel cables to the car to prevent it from sliding any further. The car looked like a beer can after it has been crushed.
The reactions from the men were the belief that no one could have survived such a wreck. Residents along the road were standing on the embankment watching and two women were sobbing.
The firefighters methodically went about their jobs. "Jaws of Life" (hydraulic cutting equipment) was set up, tie lines were secured, extinguishers were strategically placed in the event the hot engine block ignited. There was a smell of leaking gasoline.
It was hot and sticky and everyone was sweating profusely under his or her heavy fire equipment. I however was beginning to shiver with cold as my body slipped further into shock. I still wake up some nights in a cold sweat with the sound of tearing metal resonating in my ears. I remember the nauseating realization that I was going to die.
I was too weak to show much sign of life but one firefighter saw movement and alerted his peers and with new found zeal began working harder until extricating me from the rubble.
I was in shock and immense pain, but I was alive. I myself struggled with what little energy I had to get free. My mind numb from the trauma of the accident, I lacked any comprehensive thought at that point. I remember being convinced that they thought that I was dead and were taking too long to get me free.
I thought that the only thing standing in the way of my release was the gas petal holding down my ankle. In reality the gas petal wasn't even touching my ankle, it was the fragments of bone and the searing pain from each of the two places that the tibia had been broken that created the illusion of captivity in my mind.
The next hour and a half was like a nightmare in slow motion. Firefighters had to cut away the entire car. I was wedged in the driver's seat under the steering wheel and dashboard, struggling for each breath. The rescue team worked quickly to cut away the roof and the driver's side panels and the windshield frame and trunk hood.
Suddenly, my head fell onto the shoulder of a firefighter, who cradled me and spoke softly and gently assuring me that I was not going to die as his colleagues continued to cut away the metal that imprisoned my legs. An oxygen mask was placed over my face I pushed it away feeling suffocated screaming that I couldn't breathe. Nearly two hours later I was freed!
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