I am just ever so happy to be alive, and equally glad that nobody was seriously injured. I was bludgeoned (driver's side) by a drunk driver who ran a red light at the intersection of Park and Custer. Right out in front of the Haggard Ranch. He hit the front part of my car and basically destroyed it. Had he hit just a few feet further back, I very likely wouldn't be alive right now. Bye-bye, Benny. The car spun around helter skelter and wound up at a peculiar angle to its original trajectory. The drunk driver never braked, but hit me at absolute full speed --- and he was driving very, very fast. (I can still feel the impact and it makes me kind of flinchy.) He then careened off and hit yet another car.
The saftey air bags in my car burst forth as designed and I was wearing a seat belt.
I don't know if the cows, sheep, and llamas at the Haggard Ranch were frightened by the crash, but it's likely that they just looked up and said, "Not again."
When the police officers arrived, I heard them asking the other driver how much he had to drink. They didn't ask me. I hadn't had anything. They referred to me as the "victim" and said that a witness had corroborated my story.
I apologized to the fire fighters and paramedics for wasting their time, but they said "Hey - it's our job!" They are so incredibly professional.
I was shaken up like you wouldn't believe. My clothes and my hair smelled like various engine fluids and rubbery smoke. The odor was all over me. But I was lucid and managed to control myself. I'm a little stiff in places, but I took Advil, so who knows what the future holds for me pain-wise.
I went back to the wreckage to retrieve a few items. My garage door opener, my digital camera, and my Harry Potter baseball cap ...
... which I then placed on my head ...
... backwards.
The first person I called was Chris, but he was away at a Greek Orthodox Easter vigil.
So I rang up my wonderful friends, John and DonaLeigh (who live in Plano), and they came and got me. I spent the night at their house on a concussion watch. We stayed up late and watched, of all things, auto racing. Later, after I recited a mass of sports statistics for them to prove I still had my wits about me (Roger Staubach's passer rating in 1971 was and excellent 104.8, his career numbers were a then record 84.5 -- and he had eleven consussions during his playing days) , they put me up in a guest bedroom, and John even laid fresh sheets on the bed. DonaLeigh made me an omelet in the morning and served me a cold glass of milk. Then she took me home. She even offered me a ride to work tomorrow.
It's so good to have friends.
I don't look forward to all the insurance biz and having to get a new car, but it's really GREAT to be alive right now.
And to think: I spent the earlier part of the day teaching a young friend of mine how to drive.