My daughter narrowly escaped a serious accident tonight. And that's no exaggeration. She and her friend, who only just got her drivers license, were on Skyline blvd, a single lane road through the forests between the Santa Cruz mountains and Saratoga. Somehow, through some seemingly innocent attempt to make a "Y" turn, her friend floored it in reverse while turning the steering wheel in the wrong direction and they careened up and over a 2-3ft incline that dropped into what is about a 50ft ravine leading straight down.
Were it not for the tree that blocked them from doing so, I'd have been driving to a hospital to see her, or worse, had there not been somebody right there at the time it happened to witness it, nobody would have even known they were there. Without the tree stopping the car from plummeting, it would have rolled and they could have been unconscious or incapable of escaping. And of course, there's no cellular signal there either. This could have been really, REALLY bad. I doubt she'd have died, but it could have been a worst case scenario. Far worse than the relatively inconsequential jostling and damage to her friend's parents car. And oh yes, the loss of the iPhone I lent her which plummeted down the crevasse as the good samaritan who was witness to the situation helped pull them from the car and oversaw their safe transportation to a place where her friend could contact her parents, and myself.
That timing and that position turned a potential tragedy into an adrenaline rush and a life experience she walked away from, laughing nervously, and will never forget. It'll hopefully inform them both, too, in their future driving choices. Especially which way to turn the car and how hard to press the gas. Both things I'd expected to be known. But also recognize that, in simple terms, shit happens. That's why they're called accidents.
I have had my own close calls, wherein the difference of timing and position spared me the same potential outcome of serious harm, if not death. I have swerved to avoid a collision occurring in front of me and watched as a spinning car barely missed me while the car behind me took the hit. I have glanced down long enough to look back up and realize there is no room to brake before hitting the car that suddenly stopped ahead of me, in an easily rollable Fiat 2000 convertible, top down, forcing me to turn left while breaking, subsequently and violently spinning a full 360º around, only to come to a wobbling stop facing in the same direction I had been traveling but now in the lane of oncoming traffic. I have driven into an intersection as truck ran a red night, leaving me only enough time to swerve to the right as my drivers' side door collided with the trucks' passenger-side door while the passenger therein grimaced with shock at my sudden invasion of his personal space. I observed a swerving pair of headlines weaving and racing towards me in my rear view mirror on a freeway one night, sporadically crossing lanes behind me, narrowly passing me on the left before skidding along the divider wall, sparks flying, and continuing down the road into the distance ahead. I watched a 70's era Cadillac uncontrollably cross multiple lanes of a freeway while I was driving on the opposite side, in the fast lane, watching it flip upside down, strike the divide, arc upright against the barrier wall that prevented it from landing directly on top of me as I passed underneath it's shadow before it fell back and out of view…., also in the same top down convertible.
When I got the call tonight it took several tries to get her to speak clearly, but the bad cellular connection they had didn't help. I talked briefly to the person that helped them out, Tom (who I later learned grew up a few blocks from me in Cupertino, and likely went to the same school at the same time as I). I was told they were ok, and she then said the car was just past the small parking lot at the top of the hill, where bikes congregate on their weekend rides. So my son and I headed up to get her, calling the other girl's parents en route to collaborate, calling her mom to communicate our timeline, and putting the sports+ traction mode of the M4 to a real world test.
Once we got to the top of the hill, we drove along the road, looking for any sign of their car, her parents car, a tow truck. Anything. I expected to come across them easily and clearly, even with the damp air and fog so heavy at times I had to slow for safely reasons. But, we could not find them, and we went well beyond anything I expected to be reasonable distance. We eventually turned around, returned, and tried calling repeatedly with no luck until the signal-gods saw fit to enable their effort to contact me in return to actually reach my phone.
They had been at that parking lot the whole time.
We arrived, my daughter was apologetic to a fault. I told her it was fine. The biggest issue of the night was really the experience of driving through dense fog, unable to find her, unable to call anybody, and not knowing where in the hell this accident happened.
We did return to the scene of the crime, and observed the car. There is no way I would have seen it, perhaps not even in daylight, given how far over the edge it had gone. It was easily at a 45 degree angle, front grill pointing upwards and the back slammed against a Y shaped tree, the only thing keeping it from having plummeted violently down into a ravine, the only reason they were able to walk away without a scratch.
I write almost nightly in my daily journal, including events of the day, insights, lessons and gratitudes. But this warrants its own post. I am so grateful she was fortunate enough to have walked away from this. I'm glad I was able to apply some recent readings about patience and calm as I stressed while driving too long through dense fog without finding them, along with some internal reflections about how I want to improve the way my kids perceive and learn from me, based on a few things each have said about my curmudgeonly nature.
I am pretty sure this will be something she will remember for her lifetime. I'll continue to strive to infuse the nature of such instances, gratitude and good fortune into both of their world views. I frequently encourage them to be conscious about the fragility of life and the uncertainty of what might come next. I champion them treating each other, their mother and all others well, so they might never regret what might be "the last things they said". I know that's rather heavy for a teen, but it is based on life experience. Now, gradually, slightly, and hopefully with grace and minimal trauma, they are going to realize things like this from their own life experiences, too.