Traffic had been heavy near the city, but it opened up as I got farther away. On the freeway I was on, there are four lanes, which I will reference to as the lane closest to the center median as lane one and so on, with lane four being the far right lane. As I neared the Fort McHenry tunnel, I tried changing lanes, moving from lane three to lane two (with the ultimate destination being lane one), but I saw a car in lane one move over to lane two where I wanted to be. I was annoyed that he moved to where I wanted to be, so I slowed down and let him pass me.
Once he was in front of me, I kept an eye on him. He kept moving from lane to lane, never using his blinker. I thought he was either a dumb kid messing around or was distracted (likely on a cell phone). As I watched him, I noticed an electric sign with a flashing orange arrow in lane one, indicating that we needed to merge to the right—the Fort McHenry tunnel is made up of four tunnels with two lanes each (two tunnels going north and two going south) and occasionally half of the tunnels will be closed for maintenance, which was the case that night. Not only did the driver who kept moving around not see the electric arrow, he drifted too far to the left and hit the center median, sending sparks flying. Seconds after he hit the median, his car hit the electric arrow and he careened across the other lanes, finally stopping in lane four.
After witnessing the crash, I quickly decided to stop and see if the driver was okay. I pulled over just ahead of him, parking my car in lane four with my hazard lights flashing (in retrospect, I should have pulled all the way over into the shoulder, though my car was fine where it was). A truck driver also saw the crash and stopped his rig, blocking traffic immediately behind us. I walked up to the crashed car (a white sedan that I would guess was at least ten years old), which judging from the damage, would never be drivable again. The driver, a white male in his early twenties with a scruffy beard, was in shock but otherwise appeared to be fine. He rolled down the window so we could speak. While not word for word, our conversation went something like this:
ME: You okay, man?
HIM: Uh, I think so.
ME: Okay, good. Have you called 911, yet?
HIM: No.
ME: Okay, I’m going to call them.
HIM: Can I call my dad first?
ME: Let me call and get emergency services out here first, but after I call, yeah, you can call your dad.
I made the call and told the dispatcher where we were, which was easy since we had stopped right next to a mile marker. She told me that crews would be on the way soon. I then asked the kid (whose name was Billy) for his dad’s number so I could call. With the number dialed, I passed Billy the phone. His dad didn’t pick up, which makes sense since it was approaching midnight and my number would only show up as “unknown.” Billy left a voicemail and passed the phone back. With the calls made, we waited.
During all of this, the trucker walked over and checked on us and told me that he would wait for the road crew to arrive before taking off. I expressed my gratitude and he walked back to the cab of his truck. I asked Billy if he wanted to get out of the car and he decided that was a good idea. I could tell that he was still in shock, so I decided to talk to him to try to get his mind off of what happened. I asked him if had done any drinking that night (which I realize now was not a great opener), with the assurance that I wouldn’t say anything to the police. His response? “Obviously.” I told him that at least he was okay, so things would work out. He then started having a bit of a panic attack, saying that he wished that he had died in the crash. He even got in my face a bit too close and said that if I had a gun that I should shoot him. I think he was worried about getting a DUI on his record and didn’t want to face the consequences. I tried to calm him down, but nothing worked, so I ended up just walking away, leaving Billy to lean against the side of his wreaked car.
Before too long, I saw lights flashing and heard sirens. Before I saw any police, I saw the road crew come in so they could clean up the mess and get more than one lane of traffic flowing again. The trucker told me that he was taking off so he would could his delivery and wished me well. As the trucker walked away, I saw a police officer, so I walked up to him and explained that I was the witness who had called and gave my testimony of what I saw. True to my word, I said nothing about Billy admitting to drinking that night. I reasoned that my testimony of anything beyond what I actually saw would only count as hearsay and that the cops would use a breathalyzer anyway. Once I got through everything, the officer asked me to wait in my car in case they needed anything else from me.
I waited in my car for about ten minutes when a different officer came up and tapped on the passenger window of my, which I rolled down so we could talk. The officer gave me a paper form and a pen and asked me to write down my testimony, along with my contact information. He also thanked me for staying saying, “Not a lot of people stay, so thank you.” I filled up the allowed space on the form with my testimony, finishing just as the officer came to retrieve it. He thanked me again for staying and told me that I may be called to testify in court, but that that was unlikely. With that, I drove off, getting home around 12:30 AM.
The next morning, around 6:45 AM, Billy’s dad called me to ask how his son was doing. I gave him the gist of what had happened and suggested that if he hadn’t heard from his son, that he call the Baltimore City police for more information. He thanked me and wished me a good day before hanging up. While the emotion strongest in Billy’s dad’s voice was concern, a close second was annoyance. I think that Billy was arrested for driving under the influence and spent the night in jail. I also suspect that it wasn’t Billy’s first time in that situation.
What I took from this experience more than anything else is how important it is to listen to promptings from the Spirit, even when we don’t realize that’s what they are. I saw Billy switching back and forth between lanes with enough room to avoid him. I decided to hang back and watch what he was doing, rather than speed up and pass him (which may have made me a part of the accident). Once the accident occurred, I pulled over to check on him. All of that was from the Spirit, subtly directing me, first keeping me safe, then keeping Billy safe. I’m grateful that I was able hear the promptings and that I heeded them.
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