“No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main.” – John Dunne.
When I got past my shock at being trapped in my car about to roll over and into a watery ditch yesterday, I managed to look around and see one or two trucks pulling over by the side of the road.
One of them was one of those big pick-up trucks with two huge “Trump” banners and two over-sized American flags waving alongside them.
I saw the driver get out and run through the snow and towards my car. He was in his 30’s, wearing an Army camo jacket. He rushed over to my window, which I had lowered.
“Hey man,” he said, “let’s get you out of that car.” Another man opened the door, and the Trump guy and two more men reached in gingerly, almost lovingly, to grab me by the arms and pull me out of the car.
“Is there anything else you need?” Trump man said, looking me over carefully for any signs of bruises or wounds. I said no, and as more and more people pulled up, Trump man got into his truck, waved to me, and drove off. I waved thanks to him as he climbed into his truck, and he waved back.
We were just two people thrown together in one of those tiny dramas that define life in 2021. Our politics had no bearing on what was happening.
It mattered little to either one of us at that moment who voted for why or why. At this moment, we were not enemies but friends and neighbors, part of a community of human beings who helped one another when we needed help.
So many lessons on that moment, in that exchange.
I got a lot of messages – thank you. One I especially loved was from a woman who said “when death comes for you, it will have to wait, you’ll be busy blogging.” I read it to Maria, we both loved it. I think it is true.
The tow truck operators were very impressed by how well my car held up yesterday as they laboriously pulled it up and over a stone wall and snowfield to get it on a tow truck.
This is a testament to Toyota, said Nathan, the AAA truck operator. I was proud of my car to hear that; I would have given him a treat if I knew what a car treat was.
I wrote yesterday how I slid off the road and onto a snow and ice field, and the car slid down the hill and almost rolled over into an icy creek. A small army of Good Samaritans rushed to my rescue and pulled me out of the car.
The car was stuck on some big boulders, and it took Nathan and another big tow truck working together to get it out in one piece.
My car was taken to the Performance Auto Body Shop in Eagle Bridge last night, and I asked Maris this morning if she would mind driving me there to take a look at the damage; it was dark when the car rescue was completed.
“You just miss your car, don’t you?” she asked, and abashedly I admitted it. I felt bad for my car.
I kissed the car, apologized to it, and then looked down to see what damage there was. The tailpipe and exhaust seemed wrecked, and a tire might have popped. I couldn’t see what damage there might be beneath the car’s front end.
It looks a lot better than I thought it would look.
The car will be checked over on Monday, and I may have to rent a car if the repairs take more than a few days. I told my car he was quite brave and strong, and I was sorry to have put him through all that.
In the meantime, I can borrow Maria’s Hyundai to go to the gym or shopping.
I love my car, it’s only a few months old, and I’ll miss it. It just fits me in a way no other car has.
Yesterday was an uplifting experience. I was touched by how many people appeared out of nowhere to help me in any way I needed. And I appreciated how well my car held things together.
Watching the news, it’s easy to forget how good most people are, given a chance.
In a sense, we all long for community. I hope I get the chance to thank them as well as my car.
Hey Jon, first off, l’m so glad you weren’t hurt in your accident and all the people stopping to show concern and offer help is truly uplifting, there are still plenty of good people out there. Secondly, for me this is very timely, as just this week, I got a Jeep Cherokee Trailhawk, but I seriously considered a Toyota RAV 4 because of you getting one and raving about your new RAV! My new ride would’ve faired no better I’m sure, I do sure love it though! I hope you get your baby back soon, mine’s called the ChickenShark, does your RAV4 have a name?
Not yet, Aisling. Good luck with your car.
My daughter had almost identical accident roll over the whole way and ended upright in a muddy creek Valentines Day 2011. She was in a Chevy Blazer and it saved her. She hit a small piece of ice but that’s all it took. She walked away like you but experienced the same reactions as you. So grateful that like her, your accident wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been.
I know friends whose Toyota vehicles practically saved their lives, especially in rollover accidents. I had a 4Runner (1988) that lasted for 400,000 miles and now have their minivan (2009), both my “dog mobiles!” Tough and reliable!
Above all, I’m so very glad you’re ok.
Hey John, so glad you are doing OK, sometimes the aches and pains show up the next day . . . . For over 10 years I lived part way up the Cascade Mountains, and am too familiar with the awful sensation of your car not responding to steering or braking when you start to slide . . . also seemingly in slow motion as you begin a roll over. 🙁 I too was rescued by good people, some of who stayed with me and some even unpacked my groceries and drove them on up to my home. I know you love your Rav, Toyotas are the best – glad it was not damaged more and hopefully will be as good as new. You are a fortunate man, and you know that.
I am so glad you got through this accident unharmed. Cars heal better than humans with less time involved. In reading your tale as it happened, you mention how everything seemed to move in slow motion. Several times I’ve heard this from others in similar situations. I wonder why that is? Like you are no longer in control so some spirit takes over and puts things in slow motion.
Politics aside… I like to think that most of us have good hearts in helping someone in distress as shown by the man in the Trump truck. Afterall, we are humans before we are political rivals… good message there. Also, just wondered if the vehicle that caused your accident was stopped and cited for any violations or did they leave the scene?
Thank Ann, the vehicle left, I have no idea if he or she even saw me. Let’s leave the policing to the police.
Jon, it’s great you survived and there were lots of folks to help.
You have assigned a sex to your car. Have you given “him” a name? If you have, I hope it’s not “Donald.”
Stay safe!
So this guy stops to help you, a total stranger, and all you can think of to say about him is “Trump guy”? Is this the new, acceptable slur in your world? I would say that it’s beneath you but, clearly not.
Debbie, what a dump post, please excuse my candor. I don’t know how it’s possible for any rational person to so completely miss the very clear point of an anecdote. Are you so full of hate and grievance that you no longer recognize a good or kind word?