Have you ever noticed how things happen in groups? It seems that if one of my friends get pregnant, there will suddenly be an epidemic of pregnancies amongst my acquaintances. Then there was the time, several years ago, when I witnessed a shoe store robbery, saw an escaped prisoner from the penitentiary at the grocery store, watched a man with a video camera casing a strip mall, and had a gun pulled on me-- all in about a month. And if the dishwasher breaks, the fridge, vacuum cleaner and drier are sure to give up the ghost within a week. Why is that?
Yesterday my older kids were at home filming their movie and Mike had taken the younger ones to a picnic. I was out on the town in search of The Goose Girl on CD for our upcoming road trip. Amazon carries it, of course, but since I had procrastinated until the last minute, they couldn't deliver it until after we leave. Borders and Barnes and Noble do not have it in stock. (Of course. I swear they need to hire me to run their children's departments.) Sam's Club, Wal-Mart and Target don't carry it. But (hear angelic choirs) the library does! I was so happy I almost hugged the librarian-- glasses chain and all. However, since the copy at our library was checked out, I had to drive to Manassas pick it up. No problem.
Manassas is about half an hour from my house, and Prince William Parkway, the road between here and there, is beautiful-- long and winding through nothing but hills and forests, with a ditch of deep grass dividing the four lanes. On my way there it began to rain slightly. I got the CD-- no problem-- and headed back home as the rain began to pour. I turned my wipers on as fast as they could go and I could still barely see the cars in front of me. I touched my breaks and felt my car hydroplane for a moment, so I slowed way down. Suddenly the car in front of me spun around, slid across the road into the ditch, up the other side and into oncoming traffic. I pulled onto the shoulder and got out my cell phone to call 911. A silver pick-up truck had stopped right in front of me. I figured he must have seen the car spinning, too, and had stopped to see if everyone was alright.
The lady who answered asked in a nasally voice, "What is the location of your emergency?" I told her I was on Prince William Parkway between Manassas and Woodbridge. She said, "I need an exact address, ma'am." I looked around through the pouring rain but could see only trees and grass, a bit of the road, and the silver pick-up truck, whose driver was now standing in the downpour examining his back bumper. It occurred to me that he must have been hit, although I wasn't sure how that was possible. "There's nothing but trees, " I told her. "I crossed Liberia about 10 minutes ago and I'm not to Davis Ford yet. I don't know other than that."
I told her about the accident as I watched the owner of the pick-up truck stand in the rain and just look from his bumper to me. He was completely soaked. "Can you tell me the color of the car?" I told her it was red and that no, I could not see the driver because of the rain. Suddenly, the truck owner got back into his truck, and pulled away! I interrupted the 911 lady to yell, "License Plate number!" I turned on my wipers so I could see and read out the number as the truck sped off.
The lady on the phone said a police officer would be coming soon and asked if I could stay until he arrived. I said yes. After I hung up I realized my flashers were not on. My finger touched the button just as a huge crash of thunder shook the car. I said a prayer that I might be safe and make it home alive and that the passengers of the red car might not be injured, then very slowly backed my van along the shoulder to where I could see the red car. As I stopped, the driver's window of the other car went down and I saw that there was one lady in the car. I rolled down my own window and yelled through the rain, "Are you alright?" She must have heard me, because she nodded. "I called 911!" I shouted. She nodded again, and we both put our windows back up to keep out the rain.
About 20 minutes later an officer arrived, pulled a bright yellow raincoat out of his back seat and went to talk to the driver of the red car. I waited for him, but after a few moments he went back to his car, took off the coat, got into the driver's seat, and just sat there. I waited and waited. Then I waited some more. The police officer was till just sitting there. Finally I called the non-emergency police number and asked if there was any reason I should not go home. I was told to call 911 and ask them, which I did. The same nasally woman answered. "You need to go talk to the officer," she said. "Yes, but that would require me to cross a busy highway, in the pouring rain with almost no visibility. I don't think that's a good idea." "Oh. You're right," she answered. "Don't do that." "So may I go home?" She sighed. "I guess I can't force you to stay." I took about 5 seconds to consider, then said, "Well, you have my cell phone number. Tell them to call me if they need me." And I set off for home.
As I neared my neighborhood I heard sirens and looked in my rear view mirror. A police car and two fire engines were weaving between traffic. I pulled over. A minute later another fire truck flew past me and turned into my neighborhood. I had a sudden vision of my kids at home-- filming in the basement with every lamp in the house plugged in for lighting. Josh was holding lamps above the camera--lots of electricity, lots of teen-agers, and no parent in the house. I sped up as an ambulance came from another direction and also turned into our neighborhood.
In the two minutes it took me to get to my street I convinced myself that I had nothing to worry about. Then I turned onto my street and saw four fire engines in front of my house. All my kids and the whole cast of the film were standing in the driveway. I began to cry and I accelerated through the trucks, screeched to a stop, and jumped out of the car. I looked at my kids-- none of whom were looking at me. They were all staring down the street. I turned and saw the house at the end of the cul-de-sac in flames. A fire engine blared behind me and I saw that my car was blocking their way. I jumped back in and pulled into my neighbor's driveway-- the only place I could go that wouldn't block traffic.
"Lightening struck that house!" several kids yelled as I came across the street. I stood with them for a moment and watched men unroll a huge hose down the street. "Now I get to see what they really do!" Peter was excited. I want inside.
My cell phone rang and it was a police officer. "Can you tell me what happened?" It took me a minute to remember that he meant with the car, not the house. I described the spinning car, and he said, "The woman said someone cut her off and hit her front bumper, and that's why she started spinning." I thought of the man in the pick-up truck checking out his back bumper and told the officer about it. He asked for the license plate number and I told him I'd given it when I'd called 911, but that I'd not written it down. He asked me two more times to tell him what happened. I did, and he thanked me, then hung up. A moment later he called back to say the lady thought it was a white car that had hit her. I said I didn't see any white car-- only the silver pick-up. He asked me again what I'd seen, then thanked me again.
It took about half an hour for the flames to be put out down the street, and several hours for the fire trucks to all leave. Elizabeth, who just happened to be holding a video camera when the lightening struck, had run outside and filmed the house burning, then interviewed the firemen about lightening strikes. Peter got (another) tour of a fire engine. And we were told that the family down the street was all safe, even their dog, although their house was clearly not alright. The water from our taps was a yellowish-brown color all evening from the fire hydrants being run.
I thought about how my car had hydroplaned, but I had not crashed. My kids had been home alone, filming a movie using tons of lights, but they were all safe. Our water was dirty, but would be clean soon. And I feel so blessed.
Book recommendation of the day: Stumbling on Happiness by Daniel Gilbert. I've only just started this one-- but it's funny, insightful and engaging. Even the acknowledgements were fun to read! It's about what really makes us happy vs. what we think will make us happy.
Yesterday my older kids were at home filming their movie and Mike had taken the younger ones to a picnic. I was out on the town in search of The Goose Girl on CD for our upcoming road trip. Amazon carries it, of course, but since I had procrastinated until the last minute, they couldn't deliver it until after we leave. Borders and Barnes and Noble do not have it in stock. (Of course. I swear they need to hire me to run their children's departments.) Sam's Club, Wal-Mart and Target don't carry it. But (hear angelic choirs) the library does! I was so happy I almost hugged the librarian-- glasses chain and all. However, since the copy at our library was checked out, I had to drive to Manassas pick it up. No problem.
Manassas is about half an hour from my house, and Prince William Parkway, the road between here and there, is beautiful-- long and winding through nothing but hills and forests, with a ditch of deep grass dividing the four lanes. On my way there it began to rain slightly. I got the CD-- no problem-- and headed back home as the rain began to pour. I turned my wipers on as fast as they could go and I could still barely see the cars in front of me. I touched my breaks and felt my car hydroplane for a moment, so I slowed way down. Suddenly the car in front of me spun around, slid across the road into the ditch, up the other side and into oncoming traffic. I pulled onto the shoulder and got out my cell phone to call 911. A silver pick-up truck had stopped right in front of me. I figured he must have seen the car spinning, too, and had stopped to see if everyone was alright.
The lady who answered asked in a nasally voice, "What is the location of your emergency?" I told her I was on Prince William Parkway between Manassas and Woodbridge. She said, "I need an exact address, ma'am." I looked around through the pouring rain but could see only trees and grass, a bit of the road, and the silver pick-up truck, whose driver was now standing in the downpour examining his back bumper. It occurred to me that he must have been hit, although I wasn't sure how that was possible. "There's nothing but trees, " I told her. "I crossed Liberia about 10 minutes ago and I'm not to Davis Ford yet. I don't know other than that."
I told her about the accident as I watched the owner of the pick-up truck stand in the rain and just look from his bumper to me. He was completely soaked. "Can you tell me the color of the car?" I told her it was red and that no, I could not see the driver because of the rain. Suddenly, the truck owner got back into his truck, and pulled away! I interrupted the 911 lady to yell, "License Plate number!" I turned on my wipers so I could see and read out the number as the truck sped off.
The lady on the phone said a police officer would be coming soon and asked if I could stay until he arrived. I said yes. After I hung up I realized my flashers were not on. My finger touched the button just as a huge crash of thunder shook the car. I said a prayer that I might be safe and make it home alive and that the passengers of the red car might not be injured, then very slowly backed my van along the shoulder to where I could see the red car. As I stopped, the driver's window of the other car went down and I saw that there was one lady in the car. I rolled down my own window and yelled through the rain, "Are you alright?" She must have heard me, because she nodded. "I called 911!" I shouted. She nodded again, and we both put our windows back up to keep out the rain.
About 20 minutes later an officer arrived, pulled a bright yellow raincoat out of his back seat and went to talk to the driver of the red car. I waited for him, but after a few moments he went back to his car, took off the coat, got into the driver's seat, and just sat there. I waited and waited. Then I waited some more. The police officer was till just sitting there. Finally I called the non-emergency police number and asked if there was any reason I should not go home. I was told to call 911 and ask them, which I did. The same nasally woman answered. "You need to go talk to the officer," she said. "Yes, but that would require me to cross a busy highway, in the pouring rain with almost no visibility. I don't think that's a good idea." "Oh. You're right," she answered. "Don't do that." "So may I go home?" She sighed. "I guess I can't force you to stay." I took about 5 seconds to consider, then said, "Well, you have my cell phone number. Tell them to call me if they need me." And I set off for home.
As I neared my neighborhood I heard sirens and looked in my rear view mirror. A police car and two fire engines were weaving between traffic. I pulled over. A minute later another fire truck flew past me and turned into my neighborhood. I had a sudden vision of my kids at home-- filming in the basement with every lamp in the house plugged in for lighting. Josh was holding lamps above the camera--lots of electricity, lots of teen-agers, and no parent in the house. I sped up as an ambulance came from another direction and also turned into our neighborhood.
In the two minutes it took me to get to my street I convinced myself that I had nothing to worry about. Then I turned onto my street and saw four fire engines in front of my house. All my kids and the whole cast of the film were standing in the driveway. I began to cry and I accelerated through the trucks, screeched to a stop, and jumped out of the car. I looked at my kids-- none of whom were looking at me. They were all staring down the street. I turned and saw the house at the end of the cul-de-sac in flames. A fire engine blared behind me and I saw that my car was blocking their way. I jumped back in and pulled into my neighbor's driveway-- the only place I could go that wouldn't block traffic.
"Lightening struck that house!" several kids yelled as I came across the street. I stood with them for a moment and watched men unroll a huge hose down the street. "Now I get to see what they really do!" Peter was excited. I want inside.
My cell phone rang and it was a police officer. "Can you tell me what happened?" It took me a minute to remember that he meant with the car, not the house. I described the spinning car, and he said, "The woman said someone cut her off and hit her front bumper, and that's why she started spinning." I thought of the man in the pick-up truck checking out his back bumper and told the officer about it. He asked for the license plate number and I told him I'd given it when I'd called 911, but that I'd not written it down. He asked me two more times to tell him what happened. I did, and he thanked me, then hung up. A moment later he called back to say the lady thought it was a white car that had hit her. I said I didn't see any white car-- only the silver pick-up. He asked me again what I'd seen, then thanked me again.
It took about half an hour for the flames to be put out down the street, and several hours for the fire trucks to all leave. Elizabeth, who just happened to be holding a video camera when the lightening struck, had run outside and filmed the house burning, then interviewed the firemen about lightening strikes. Peter got (another) tour of a fire engine. And we were told that the family down the street was all safe, even their dog, although their house was clearly not alright. The water from our taps was a yellowish-brown color all evening from the fire hydrants being run.
I thought about how my car had hydroplaned, but I had not crashed. My kids had been home alone, filming a movie using tons of lights, but they were all safe. Our water was dirty, but would be clean soon. And I feel so blessed.
Book recommendation of the day: Stumbling on Happiness by Daniel Gilbert. I've only just started this one-- but it's funny, insightful and engaging. Even the acknowledgements were fun to read! It's about what really makes us happy vs. what we think will make us happy.
posted by Rebecca =) | 7:38 AM
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