I should be dead. Not a day goes by that the crash doesn’t cross my mind. I still get anxious when driving that stretch of highway at night. Sometimes I have flashbacks: I’m dangling upside down from my seatbelt, gasping for air, waiting to die. I was on my way home that evening in May, after having dinner with a friend in downtown Nashville. The next exit was mine, Stewarts Ferry Pike. It was late, and there was hardly any traffic on Interstate 40. In fact, I remember only one car. Glancing in my rearview mirror, I saw the distant headlights of that car behind me. I thought nothing of it. That is, until moments later when I looked again. The car was gaining on me rapidly. I checked my speed, 75 mph, and locked my eyes on the rearview mirror, defenselessly watching what looked like a missile barreling right at me—as if it were going to plow straight through my car. I had no chance to react. The very next second, my life was changed forever. At a speed that was later estimated to be nearly 105 mph, the oncoming vehicle struck the rear end of my car square-on, sending me into a tailspin. As my car spun out of control, all I could do was cling to the steering wheel. Before a thought could enter my mind, I had spun off the interstate into the grass, and was rolling down an embankment. Metal crumpling and glass shattering, my car tumbled over and over before finally coming to a stop upside down. I was in shock. My entire body was shaking. I tasted blood in my mouth. Seconds later, I heard another violent collision. More cars were now involved. A second car sailed over the embankment; it came to rest close to mine, then caught fire. I panicked. Hanging upside down, I pushed myself up with one hand so that I could release my seat belt with the other. I grabbed my computer bag, pulled out my laptop, and tried smashing through the driver’s side window—but failed. I couldn’t breathe. Terrified, I began yelling, desperately begging for someone, anyone, to save me… but there was no one. The frightening reality of the situation seized me. I saw the flames, heard the screams, and smelled gasoline. I knew that my car would turn into an inferno in a matter of moments, with me trapped inside. I felt a sharp pain in my side. Something was wrong within me. What was this excruciating pain? Was it serious? Did I have only a few minutes left to live? Why was I bleeding? Whether the result of suffocation, fire, or fatal injury, I knew I wouldn’t make it out of that car alive; I was going to die alone on the side of the road in the dark. - Jim Palmer, Being Jesus in Nashville: Finding the Courage to Live Your Life (Whoever and Wherever You Are)
Posted on: Fri, 02 Jan 2015 15:08:29 +0000
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