Tuesday, December 9, 2008

True Story-Tragedy

So it happened yesterday morning on my way in, yet another path crossing with the thing humans are known for called emotion. It was a chilly start in the clear lavender lit morning skies to the Albermarlian traverse then onto the Centrolian split. Up the slight hill on Central in front of the Eastland Sprawl, my light ahead red. In the middle of the intersection pulling out with a green light from the left to right and onto Central was a huge AT&T bucket truck just like the one Dad used to drive only 30 years later. As I rolled up closer I realized that something was not right, it was quiet from that side of the broad side truck which was stopped not moving in the center of the eastbound side. Just as I came even with the truck then around it, I could see and immediately hear the scream. The car was a very small blue non descript either Geo Metro, Ford Focus or the like. The front end was completely shortened, crushed to less than half it's original size from plowing itself into the side of the truck. The scream, almost a loud moan with peaks of shrillness was coming from the female senior citizen being pulled from the car by an innocent by stander obviously being heroic during this physical event. White hair, red Christmas sweater, pink bloody face, Broken glass, steam or smoke, air bag hanging, men in trucks behind making the call to 911 and their supervisors. My roll\pace slowed as I watched over my shoulder continuing forward listening to the screams of pain deepen and get more drawn out, my own shock now set in. Christ, he is carrying her across the street in this bizarre looking face to face bear hug. Her feet are off the ground, the gravitational force stretching her entire weight downwards pulling or elongating her spine which may have been damaged. The screams get louder and deeper even though I am riding away, I must be moving too slow. My last vision is of her crying red face still in the arms of this man trying to keep it together. I keep moving up the hill, pedaling against the easterly ground winds. Finally the cries dissipate and in an instant it is quiet except the cold wind in my face leaving me alone all over again. There was no radio to turn on or heat to feel, no motor or accelerator to desensitize me from what I just saw. These perceptions are from being attached to the ground by bicycle and me, that is all. This time by myself I realize that I was just witness to the changing of some one's life. It was one thing before and now her future will be different as will those close to her. Keep moving west, you have to, shake it off. Strange stillness all around me now even though I am spinning in traffic. Hours later, while in the Courthouse I cried. The release was needed but did not come by strength of force, it was simple intuition movement within the deepest part of me and my brain.

There will be no pictures today, I feel as if I may have just made one.

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