I spent the weekend in Yosemite National Park with the St. Dominic and St. Vincent de Paul young adult groups, and I intended my first post upon my return to be something in regard to the trip and how much fun I had. Now, I'll do my best to actually report on that soon in another blog entry, but an incident on the way home requires comment first.
As we were driving back towards the city, my passengers suddenly decided that their earlier breakfast hadn't been sufficient and wanted to stop for a bite of lunch. We stopped at a cafe in Big Oak Flat along HWY 120 about 40 miles or so out from camp. It took us about an hour to eat, and then we headed out. As it turns out, we were just in time to basically witness a terrible accident 30 miles further along at the intersection of HWYs 120 & 108. While traffic prevented me from actually seeing the collision, I did hear a horn, squealing tires and a loud crash, and I then saw a Mercury Tracer fly across HWY 108, drive up an embankment, then roll over and land on its top in a ditch. Needless to say, I immediately pulled over and ran to the scene.
It is amazing how quickly your body can forget how much it hurts when it comes to a crisis situation. Having spent 11 hours hiking an outrageously strenuous trail on Saturday, I woke up hurting today. I have blisters on my feet, my legs are barely strong enough to move me from point A to B, my back aches something terrible from a heavy backpack, and my shoulders are a disaster. Just standing up, let alone moving, are deliriously painful chores. And yet, somehow, when it came right down to it, I was able to run painlessly from my car to the scene of the accident.
As I was arriving, the driver of the other car involved, which I hadn't to this point seen, was just emerging from her heavily damaged and smoking vehicle. She appeared distraught, but mobile and aware, so I ran straight to the overturned Mercury. The rear window was smashed and pieces of car were everywhere. As I arrived, so did several other men, including an off duty fireman, doctor and EMT. Given their presence, I did my best to give them room to deal with things, while remaining close enough to assist if needed. I assisted (kind of) as one man crawled through the back window of the car to try and get the doors unlocked so the passenger side could be opened. The driver's side was inaccessbile, crushed inside the ditch. I didn't see her myself, but the woman inside the car was apparently injured, but alert, as she was able to give someone her cell phone and asked that we call her son to let him know of the incident. I ended up making that call using her cell phone while others were working to extricate her from the vehicle. Unfortunately, I was unable to reach him on either number programmed into her phone, but I left him a voicemail saying that his mother had been in an accident, she was alive, emergency crews were on the scene and she had asked that we call him.
It was a very scary incident, I will admit. I'm not sure why I ran over to assist, and I'm not even sure I should have, but somehow the accident reminded me too much of my sister's rollover, and I didn't want to just ignore it and hope everything was alright. When the fire department and ambulance finally arrived, they were able to successfully extricate the woman from her car. I never did see her, as I was staying as out of the way as possible at that point. All the while, the driver of the other car (a young, college-aged looking girl) was on the phone with her father trying to tell him that she had been in a terrible car accident. I'm not sure if there was just too much noise around or if she was getting poor service, but her father didn't seem to understand.
I don't really know any more than that. When I realized that there was nothing more I could do, my passengers and I returned to my car (this time having to wait for an officer to stop traffic so we could cross the now re-opened highway) and headed along our way. I hope that you will all join me in praying for the drivers (and sole occupants) of both vehicles.
