Control Is Never Guaranteed

[6T9PONY]

This is a narrative essay I wrote tonight for my Composition class. I know I described my wreck a few times, but did not get into anything too deep. Here it is, if you care to read:

August 8th, 2001, was a very hot day with not a solitary cloud in the sky. It was arid and there was a slight breeze. At about eleven o’clock in the morning I got a call from my cousin, David. He asked if I would like to get a few guys together and go to The Community Center to play a game of basketball. I liked the idea so I left my house at about 11:30 a.m. to drive to his home. I arrived and we waited for the other guys to get there. Everyone showed up and we decided to hit the road to The Center.

“Hop in guys!” I said to my friends Riley and Eric. Eric got in my car, a bright yellow 1969 Ford Mustang Coupe, first and sat in the back seat, and Riley sat in the front passenger seat. We left my cousin’s house and started driving down Sky Manor Road. The road first curves to the left, then back to the right. I let my car idle down the hill, reaching a speed of around twenty miles per hour.

The road straightened for a brief period after the right hand turn and I pressed my foot against the gas pedal slightly. As I entered the left-hand turn, I pushed a little harder on the gas pedal. My automatic transmission downshifted into first gear and my rear tires forfeited traction. The rear end of my car swung precariously to the right. I let off the gas pedal slightly and turned my steering wheel to the right, trying to correct the direction of my car.

The rear end continued on its journey around to the right. I gave up on trying to straighten my car to my original path. I figured it was better to skid down the street backwards rather than sideways, in fear of rolling my car. I depressed the gas pedal again and steered back to the left. My goal was to turn my car one hundred eighty degrees from my original bearing. It worked, but just when I thought I had my car under control, I ran out of road.

The passenger side of my car slammed into the eight inch tall curb and then into the additional twelve inches of dirt incline contiguous to the curb. My car went airborne for a split second and landed on the passenger side tires. My car stalled, pitched up on the driver’s side, and then slowly kept in its roll. My car came to rest on its roof.

Not one of us had our seatbelts on. Riley ended up on the driver’s side of the car lying on his stomach. I settled on the passenger’s side of the car lying on my back. Eric was still in the rear, ending up on his back. I saw blood, but did not know whom it was from.

“Ben, I think my hand’s broken!” yelled Riley. I looked over and saw his hand gushing blood. Eric heard and smelled gasoline leaking from my gas tank. “Get out, get out, gas is leaking!” exclaimed Eric. I released the passenger side door handle, and pushed on the door. It did not budge. I repositioned myself and kicked it with both legs. It still did not budge. I heard Riley declare, “I got this side open!” Riley climbed out first, then Eric--I escaped the car last.

Riley started walking up the hill to get to his house, but a driver passed by and stopped. She asked us if we were okay and if we needed to go to the hospital. She took Riley to the emergency room. Eric and I stayed, we were uninjured.

I turned around, and saw my once immaculate Mustang, in nothing more than ruins. One wheel still spinning, the engine killed, gas pouring out the rear of the car. I walked to the front of my car and grasped the wheel, causing it to stop spinning. I realized what had happened at that point in time. “My car, my car, oh my God!” I kept repeating, screaming as loud as I could.

I calmed myself down enough to call the police on my cell phone. After I talked to the dispatcher I called my dad at his work. I also called The Community Center and left a message to tell my cousin to come back to the hill because of an accident. We took care of everything at the crash locale and made our way to the hospital to see how Riley fared. He broke his right hand ring finger and got seventeen stitches in the palm of his hand. Eric bruised his shoulder but received no serious injuries. I also escaped serious harm, and only received some minor cuts on my back.

I had never even come close to losing control of any car before that day, especially my Mustang. I drove that car with extreme care and prudence. I put unmeasurable amounts of blood, sweat, tears, and time into that car, along with a lot of money. It was my baby.

That road was armor chipped the day before the accident. It was still very loose and comparable to a gravel road. I was travelling about thirty miles per hour when my tires lost traction. The speed limit was twenty-five miles per hour. I blame no one but myself for the wreck--I was not driving correctly for the road conditions.

I do believe the armor chipping was a tremendous contributing factor to the accident though. If I had driven the exact same way, down that exact same road two days before that, nothing would have happened at all.

[Old Guy with 87 GT]

darn, recalling somthing like that must be tough........good writing though

.........i used to think i was an invincable driver .....i had to learn the hard way that there,s no such thing as an invincable driver.......somtimes you just never know what can happen.........i've been lucky enough to not have any accidents for a while ,but in reality it's just luck........you can do everything you can to be the best driver you can be ..........but it's usually the least expected thing that gets you...........

[RAGE_5.0]

good writing ben. You almost have the fastback done??
My 5L's almost done at the body shop so I'm almost free again