When I was a young driver between the ages of say 16 and 20, I was involved in three (minor) accidents.
1. The first was when someone side-swiped my Dad's car on Negley Avenue. The side panel fell off, I panicked, my unnaturally calm younger brother jumped out of the car in the middle of the busy street to pick up the missing piece, and we drove off to come home to my father's disappointment. Not my fault.
2. The second happened while waiting to turn left on yellow in the middle of a busy Pittsburgh intersection and with my previously disappointed father as the passenger. I started to make the left turn as the light turned from yellow to red. An oncoming car blew the light, rammed into the car, drove off and just like that, I learned what a hit and run was. About this time, my insurance rates went up. But again, not my fault!
3. And then came the third one ... the one that was completely attributable to me. I was the second car in a line of traffic on an off ramp merging with a busy three-lane street. Instead of watching the car in front of me, I peaked around to watch the gaps in the oncoming traffic. I saw a wide-open opportunity, so I floored the gas pedal and merged ... right into the rear end of the car in front of me. My sister, the passenger this time around, panicked.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! Oh my God! OH MY GOD! What are we going to do?!?! SHE HAS A HANDICAPPED SIGN ON HER LICENSE PLATE!!! OH MY GOD!!!!”
The woman in the car in front of me waved me over to the side of the road, so I followed, with my sister still flipping out in the passenger seat.
I hopped out of the car to assess the damage on my car and hers. Low and behold no damage. Phew! So I strolled over to greet the woman, give her my information, and assure her that both of our cars we A-Okay. But she remained seated in her car and said ever so matter of factly through her window, “I'm paralyzed from the waist down so you’ll have to assemble my wheelchair and roll me to the back of the car so I can assess the damage."
NO WAY.
So, I reached into her backseat, assembled the wheelchair, looked back at my sister who was visibly flipping out even more in my Dad’s car, helped the woman into her wheelchair, and gave her the ride of her life to the back of her car.
Ta da! No damage.
In so many words, I said, “Okay, paraplegic, it’s been real, but there’s no damage so let’s call it a day.”
She countered in so many words, “Well I can’t feel the lower half of my body, so I’m going to have to check out if I have any physical damage.”
My thought ... Actually, I've been instructed not to reveal "my thoughts."
After information exchanges, legal precautions, and a couple parental punishments it turned out that we never heard from the woman again, everything was okay, and my insurance rates didn't even go up ... that is until I got a reckless driving citation on the way to Mother's Day brunch a year later.
After information exchanges, legal precautions, and a couple parental punishments it turned out that we never heard from the woman again, everything was okay, and my insurance rates didn't even go up ... that is until I got a reckless driving citation on the way to Mother's Day brunch a year later.
After nearly a decade of being accident free, I was involved in #4 this week. I was stopped in a line of traffic waiting to merge onto a busy thoroughfare. It was pouring rain. I was on the phone with my Dad, debating the option of having my wedding reception in the indoor tennis courts of my Golf Club (genius idea that has since been revoked by all other stakeholders). I saw a red Jeep coming closer, and closer, and not stopping. I let out a very audible HOLY SHIT! And then BAM! my cute little Mini Cooper got hit ... and hit hard!
Disappointed Dad told me to hang up and deal with the problem at hand. While still dreaming about importing palm trees and bonsai trees into the indoor tennis courts, I rolled down my window to talk with the prematurely licensed teenager who rear-ended me.
"What were you doing?!"
Shivering, soaking wet, trembling with fear she responded, "I hydroplaned ..."
Seriously, leave it to the Millennial generation to pay attention in driver's ed and actually learn what hydroplaning means.
I saw how scared she was though and I envisioned how upset her parents would be when she arrived home that evening. So I decided there was only one thing to do - play it cool. I had been in her situation before and knew how awful it felt. So I pulled out the umbrella from the back of my car, handed it to her, told her my paraplegic story, put a smile back on her face, got her phone number, got my umbrella back and drove off.
When I arrived at The Boyfriend's that night, I got an incredulous stare when I told him that all I got was a phone number .
"You didn't call the police?"
"Nope."
"You didn't get her insurance card."
"Nope."
"You didn't even get her name?!?!"
"Nope."
"All you have there is that seven digit number?"
"Yep."
So to cease the conversation I called the number ... reckless teenager's mother answered to the tune of her daughter crying in the background. I got all their information at that point, filed the claim with the most friendly All-State insurance agent in Alabama, and today the cute Mini, my partner in crime, is in the body shop getting a make-over. Which could even be a good thing.
So what ... I'm down a car for the next couple of weeks, I was a little delayed getting home that night, but there are worse things, and there is never a need to flip out when everyone comes away from the scene without injury. Generally, things will be okay when you take a deep breath and realize there are more pressing issues at hand ... like my wedding dress.
To all the young drivers out there - Go a little slower and you won't hydroplane.
And to my younger brother who taught me how to be cool during a minor accident from day one, thank you. And happy 26th!!
Lo.
Disappointed Dad told me to hang up and deal with the problem at hand. While still dreaming about importing palm trees and bonsai trees into the indoor tennis courts, I rolled down my window to talk with the prematurely licensed teenager who rear-ended me.
"What were you doing?!"
Shivering, soaking wet, trembling with fear she responded, "I hydroplaned ..."
Seriously, leave it to the Millennial generation to pay attention in driver's ed and actually learn what hydroplaning means.
I saw how scared she was though and I envisioned how upset her parents would be when she arrived home that evening. So I decided there was only one thing to do - play it cool. I had been in her situation before and knew how awful it felt. So I pulled out the umbrella from the back of my car, handed it to her, told her my paraplegic story, put a smile back on her face, got her phone number, got my umbrella back and drove off.
When I arrived at The Boyfriend's that night, I got an incredulous stare when I told him that all I got was a phone number .
"You didn't call the police?"
"Nope."
"You didn't get her insurance card."
"Nope."
"You didn't even get her name?!?!"
"Nope."
"All you have there is that seven digit number?"
"Yep."
So to cease the conversation I called the number ... reckless teenager's mother answered to the tune of her daughter crying in the background. I got all their information at that point, filed the claim with the most friendly All-State insurance agent in Alabama, and today the cute Mini, my partner in crime, is in the body shop getting a make-over. Which could even be a good thing.
So what ... I'm down a car for the next couple of weeks, I was a little delayed getting home that night, but there are worse things, and there is never a need to flip out when everyone comes away from the scene without injury. Generally, things will be okay when you take a deep breath and realize there are more pressing issues at hand ... like my wedding dress.
To all the young drivers out there - Go a little slower and you won't hydroplane.
And to my younger brother who taught me how to be cool during a minor accident from day one, thank you. And happy 26th!!
Lo.
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