This afternoon while coming
home from work, I barely miss being involved in a multi-car collision on a busy
and dangerous major thoroughfare. My
co-worker is in front of me by about forty-five seconds. I stop in the parking lot, hesitating before
I pull on to the school’s long driveway, so I can fish around for my
glasses. I need my glasses for reading,
and I’m on my way to vote. It’s
imperative that I be able to read the ballot.
I lose sight of my
co-worker’s small blue car, pass by another co-worker’s red SUV, and head
further north, my mind completely on the election. Up ahead of me I see a black
car across the road, as if it is trying to turn and has been blocked, so I slow
down. The car is not in the middle of a
turn, though. It has been spun around
sideways.
As we all come to a stop
in the middle of the four-lane road, I quickly scan what’s going on. Someone is lying down in the dirt on the
other side of the road. She’s not badly
hurt as she throws herself onto the ground then quickly stands up again. Shock, I surmise, she’s probably scared out
of her mind and dazed at what just happened.
There are several people
on that side of the road there to help her.
A construction van of some type has pulled over, so I go back to the
business of letting people cut in front of me to go around the scene to the
right. The dumbass driver in front of me
and to the left, though, ignores my flashing lights and obvious gesture to let
him or her into the traffic pattern. The
driver seems completely absorbed in looking over the scene and drives way too
close to the disabled black sedan.
As I come around the
accident, I see the other half of what is going on. A read car has been completely smeared, its
entire passenger side destroyed, scraped, pushed in. I cannot see if anyone is still inside. Several cars have pulled over onto the sidewalk,
and someone’s horn is beeping … beeping … beeping.
I make the split-second
decision to continue on my way. I don’t
really know much first aid, I don’t recognize the cars involved, and I didn’t
witness the accident. If I am to stop
now, I’ll be in the way. Seriously. When I am asked, “Why did you stop?” I doubt “Because
I’m a gawker” will suffice. The police
will tell me to get my stupid ass right out of there. So, without waiting for the middle man, I get
my stupid ass right out of there.
This accident, though, is
moments old, perhaps only seconds. No
emergency crews have yet arrived nor do I hear any sirens. I take a few breaths and thank my glasses for
once not being on my head, for delaying me just that much longer that neither I
nor my colleague managed to be involved, or at least she wasn’t because I don’t
see her car – unless it has been catapulted somewhere off the street.
I poke along behind some
slow-bees all the way to the polling place in my town, about seven miles from
the accident scene. I am extra-vigilant
looking for traffic patterns, doubting directionals and easing up on my lead
foot. That could have been me had I left
on time. I feel as lucky for myself as I
feel horrible for those involved. I
sincerely hope that there are no major injuries … or worse.
Yes, I vote. I vote in this crash-and-burn political arena
that I’m not sure will be any better than nor painless than the massive
collision I have just passed. I doubt
the police and firemen can help out this major collision of self-absorbed
professional and perpetual career politicians.
At least here in the polling place while standing in the voting booth, I
can pretend to witness a difference.
