In the Blink of an Eye

I will never forget yesterday.  I'm still processing what happened, and it helps to write some thoughts down.

Yesterday, being Halloween, was a big day for our church; we had not only our normal two morning services, but we'd planned a big "Trunk or Treat" event in our parking lot as another way to connect with people from this community.  We had just started the first service - around 9 a.m. - when one of the guys on our team ran inside and said an accident had just happened on the highway in front of our building.  I grabbed one of the firefighters who's a member of our church and ran outside.  From the balcony I could see two smoking cars in the middle of the road and some people running around.  Later on, I found out that at the moment of impact one of the vehicles flipped completely over, landed back on its wheels, and then burst into flames.  When I got across the street I saw a man emptying a fire extinguisher on what was left of the engine of the first car - a jeep with the front end completely caved-in right up to the dashboard. As I got to the car a man was kicking at the passenger side window as hard as he could, but it wouldn't break.  By now I could see the second vehicle - also an SUV - the front end also destroyed by what was clearly a high-speed, head-on collision.  This was the most horrendous accident I'd ever witnessed first-hand.

For some reason when I first got to the scene I thought the passengers had survived and were already out of the their cars.  And then it hit me like a ton a bricks: they were all still trapped in their vehicles, and precious seconds were ticking by.  Time has a way of slowing down in the middle of an crisis, and the whole event I'm describing probably lasted only five minutes - though in the heat of the moment it felt like an eternity.  I looked in the window of the passenger side of the jeep and saw the blond hair of a young boy, down low between the window and the dashboard.  He wasn't moving, and I couldn't imagine how he could survive such a violent impact.  Those who'd stopped to help were trying to break the window to save the boy, but it was like it was made of steel and not glass.  The driver's side of the Jeep was smashed beyond recognition, and at first glance I couldn't even see the person who'd been driving.  She must have died the very instant the two cars collided, in the blink of an eye.  I wondered if she'd even had time to react before the impact, as there were no skid marks anywhere on the highway.  About that time one of the men standing there grabbed a large rock and smashed the passenger window in.  Doug, one of the firemen in our church, put his hand on the boy's neck but couldn't detect a pulse.  They smashed in the back window and reached in to check the woman's pulse, but as I feared she was dead.  I thought, "Oh God, there are no survivors".

There was a brief moment - maybe only a few seconds - when Doug and I were standing next to the passenger window while the other guys scrambled for a tool to pry the door open.  On an impulse I put my hand on the boy's head and started praying that God would intervene supernaturally and save this little boy's life.  The passenger door was jammed shut by the impact, so there was no easy way to get him out.  Doug put his fingers on the boy's neck again, and this time he felt a pulse.  "He's alive!" he yelled, and we all jumped into action to get the door open while there was still time.  One of the volunteer firefighters had brought a pry-bar and a pick axe - so while Doug supported the boy's head and neck, the rest of us heaved with all our might to open the door.  It wouldn't budge.  I was feeling more and more desperate as each second passed, knowing the boy could die as we tried in vain to open the door.  We pushed, pulled, hammered -  but the front door was jammed tight behind the rear one.  By this time a firetruck had arrived, and with it the pneumatic tools that were needed to cut through the metal.  It probably took them another three minutes - even with the power tools - to wrench the door open .  During all this time the little boy hadn't moved.  They put a neck brace on him, and as they lifted him onto the gurney his eyes opened.  I felt a surge of hope that perhaps he would make it after all,  and I was so grateful for the rescue workers who knew exactly what to do.

I walked around to the other vehicle and saw four or five emergency personnel trying to save the life of the second driver who was lying on the ground next to his car.  They were trying to get a breathing tube down his throat, and I wondered if the boy would be the only survivor of this terrible accident.   I walked back to where several people were sitting on the guardrail, and asked if they'd witnessed the accident.  A young woman in her twenties said that they were in the car behind the jeep, and they watched in horror as the SUV drove right across the median and into the oncoming traffic.  It was a bright, sunny day - no ice, no rain, and only a few cars on the road.   What could explain the actions of the other driver?  Was he drunk?  Did he pass out, or fall asleep at the wheel? 

Two Flight for Life helicopters arrived to evacuate the boy, and eventually the driver of the second car.  This is a small mountain community, and I knew it wouldn't take long to find out that someone in our church knew the identity of one or all of the three victims.  As it turned out, the woman who died was the secretary and receptionist of the Baptist Church down the road, and she and her son were obviously on their way there when the accident happened.  Many of those in our church knew her and her three sons, so the crisis on the road turned into a minor crisis at church as our folks realized what had happened.

How can you explain such a bizarre accident?  I can't explain it, but even before I knew the identity of the woman driving the Jeep, I sensed that God was somehow in the middle of this terrible tragedy - not that He caused it, but in His sovereignty He allowed it to happen. There was hardly any traffic on the road because it was a Sunday morning.  Just a second earlier or later, and the driver of the red SUV would have missed the Jeep.  But he didn't miss them, and now there are three boys without their mother.  My one comfort is that they are part of a community of believers who can surround them and care for them; they are not alone.   I couldn't get to sleep last night, and as Daphne and I talked about the experience I told her how comforting it is to me to know that we, too, have a church family (not to mention my sister and her family down in Denver) who would do anything to help if we were the ones to suffer a similar tragedy.  I found my mind imagining how I would feel if it had been Daphne in that car, or one of my girls... and I literally had to put the images out of my mind.  I got out of bed and went into the living room to start writing this blog entry.  As I wrote, I found my emotions bubbling up, and I ended up calling one of my friends who had also been with me trying to help rescue the boy.  I just needed to talk to someone to help me process what had happened.  We both agreed that we did everything we could humanly do to help in that situation, and we would do it again today if we had to.

I finally got to sleep somewhere around 1 a.m. this morning.