On June 11th, 2005, I almost died. To be fair, there are probably many many days when I almost died, and I don't even know it. But today, you can be damned sure I know it. While driving up to Lake Placid to run in the inaugural Lake Placid marathon, I was involved in one hell of an auto wreck. Before we go any further, I'm fine. My right wrist got screwed up, but I iced it and it's got a wrap now, and I'm fine. I went to the hospital for a cursory exam, which revealed that, you guessed it, I'm fine. The driver and passenger of the other car are also (by all reports) fine, though I never saw nor spoke to them. So what the hell happened?

I was driving on 87 North ("the Northway"), going about 65-70 with the flow of traffic, on my to Lake Placid. It was 85 out, and I had the top down and the Foo Fighters blasting. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a car coming from the Southbound lanes. At first I assumed it was using the policemen's u-turn access, but I quickly realized that wasn't the case as I saw dirt fly up and the car kept moving. About 1/10th of a second later, I realized the car was cutting directly across out 3 northbound lanes, at a 90 degree angle to me. After that, things happened a little fast.

I swerved to the left (I was in the leftmost lane already) and braked in an effort to avoid the car, but it wasn't possible. There was an incredibly loud bang, as my car hit theirs (going at least 50-60 still), my airbag deployed, and my rear seat rollbars popped out. I then negotiated my car two lanes over and stopped in the shoulder. With "Next Year" still playing on the stereo, the airbag drooping in my lap and my overhead lights hanging by their wires, I got out of the car and wandered over to the grass. I looked back and saw that the other car wasn't visible, having continued off of 87, over the shoulder, over the grass and into the brush.

By this point, other cars had stopped and they were running down to check on that car, so I just wandered around a bit, shaking it off. I called 911 and spoke to the dispatcher, and I believe I was the first one to do it, which seems odd. We were at exactly mile marker 8.8, so think of me if you're ever on 87 North. Pour out an O'Douls just after you cross the big brown bridge, at mile 8.8.

After my call, the state troopers, firefighters, and ambulance services quickly arrived, and I spoke to a couple troopers, a couple firefighters, and a couple EMTs. I eventually went to the hospital for a cursory check, on the advice of the firefighter, and after much waiting my dad swooped in to pick me up (Thanks Dad). We were planning to meet in Lake Placid for the race and to see each other, but instead we're driving back to Boston and the race is off for me.

One thing I should note is that the EMT driver had quite an odd manner. I was shaken up, as one might expect, so I was just sitting on the grass talking to whatever authority figures needed me to describe what happened to them, when the fireman (Jeff?) and I agreed that I would go to the hospital. She then repeatedly asked if I was sure I wanted to go, which made me really second guess it. I assume they simply need the patient to affirmatively state that they wish to go to the hospital, so they're clear, but she was being quite, well, bitchy about it.

Anyhow, after leaving the hospital we got my license and information back from the state troopers. The accident information sheet they gave me informed me that the driver was a 16 year old girl, which explains things a bit. I then went to pull all my gear (including the laptop on which I'm writing this) out of my car, as well as to take some pictures. I talked to the tow guy, and he told me that the other car was pretty well beat as well.

Apparently, they said that someone swerved at them or cut them off, causing the driver to pull left. After that, I dunno what happened, but presumably she lost control. That's about as good an explanation as I expect to get for why I nearly died. Meanwhile, my car is fuh-hucked up, as you can see. I'll know in a few days if its totaled or not, and then I'll see what happens. In the meantime, it looks like I really need to get my motorcycle running. If you're going to stare down death, you might as well live it up once you survive.

The Back Medium | Large	The Front Right Side Medium | Large	The Side Medium | Large	The Headshot Medium | Large

Driver's Side, Top Down Big	Driver's Side, Top Up Big	The Front Big	The Rear Big

Other Notes
The following is a collection of other odd or funny things from the incident that didn't fit into the story itself.

-My steering wheel airbag went off, but I don't remember hitting it. Possibly I didn't, or more likely it just bounced my head back and I shouldn't remember feeling it at all. But kids, this is why we don't replace our steering wheel airbags with goddamned monitors.

-The rear-seat rollbar feature is incredibly cool. Basically, in the event of a collision, two U-shaped pieces pop out from behind the rear seat headrests, to act as a rollbar in case the car rolls.

-After I got out of my car, I figured it would be smart to turn on my hazard lights. I looked back and saw that they were already on, presumably because the airbag had deployed.

-Only my steering wheel airbag had deployed. My assumption is that the side airbag didn't deploy because the collision was in the front, and the passenger side airbags didn't because there was no one seated there.

-As the ambulance was leaving, the firefighters were trying to pry open the hood, to disconnect the battery (standard accident procedure). I didn't know what they were doing until the EMT worker mentioned it, at which point I swore. The battery in my car is in the trunk. Upon later examination at the shop, it appears they simply cut the wiring harness, which is a far more expensive thing to fix.

-Perhaps as many as a dozen vehicles stopped to check on us, and several people talked to me. One young couple, mid-20s, told me I "looked like I needed a joint". I don't believe they were offering, but I didn't actually ask.

-Another guy who had been driving southbound came to talk to me about what he'd seen. I don't think I got his name, so let's call him Fast Freddy. Fast Freddy excitedly told me how he'd been behind the wagon and had seen everything, using flailing hand gestures that weren't helping my rattled state of mind. He told me to be thankful I was ok, and that they were ok, to worry about her, and not my car (all of which I'd been doing, thank you). He also told me I was the hero here, that I had swerved and avoided nailing them dead-on and I might have saved their lives. That's all great, but then Fast Freddy wanted to talk about my car. He was checking it out, and asked whose it was. I explained that it was mine, and he congratulated me (and shook my hand, of all things). "Sweet ride," he said, "Sweet ride!". "It was," I muttered.

-My brother asked what kind of car it was, and I said "A green wagon, probably a Subaru", but I had only seen it for abot 3-5 seconds. When I later got the Accident Information Exchange Form, it was indeed a 2005 Subaru wagon. And they say eyewitness accounts aren't reliable.

-As my dad and I were driving back to Boston, we were behind a minivan with some sort of dresser attached to the top of it, being moved. I'm always watching things like that, to make sure they don't come off. Damned if this dresser didn't fall right off the top of the minivan. I yelled to my dad, who hadn't yet noticed, and we easily avoided it, but jesus christ - what did I do? This day was like my own personal Final Destination, with death hunting me down.