Friday, September 6, 2013

Blogtember Day 4: A Story of Fear

{missed out on day #3 of Blogtember on account of a crazy schedule, but hey, c'est la vie.}

Friday, September 6: A story about a time you were very afraid.

I'm sure that in my life, I've been afraid many times. But the one event that immediately comes to mind {and that makes for a good story to tell} is the time I was hit by a car while crossing the street during my freshman year at Baylor.


Baylor kids sometime joke that with the university being a primarily closed campus to vehicles, that if you get hit by a car anywhere on campus that your tuition gets paid for. Well folks, Alex Hefner and I are living, walking examples of how that is certainly not the case!

It was the MLK three-day weekend and Alex and I were leaving the Collins girls dormitory to run a few errands. The intersection in front of the dorm doesn't have a stop sign for cars, and with people turning onto 8th Street from the I-35 frontage road, traffic is usually pretty busy. It was a January evening, so it was already dark around 6 p.m.. Let me set the scene...



The arrow you see on the right is pointing to the crosswalk that goes from the dorm to the parking garage. See that Toyota 4Runner? It's sitting on a road called MP Daniel Esplanade, waiting to turn left onto 8th Street. 

Like any smart person, Alex and I looked both ways, right and left, before stepping foot into the crosswalk, and we got three-fourths of the way across just fine when BAM!!! Next thing I knew, Alex's body barreled into mine from the impact of the vehicle and we both found ourselves sitting {or lying? I don't remember!} on the pavement.

We were in absolute shock from what had just happened. "Did we really just get HIT BY A CAR?!"


I guess the girl looked to her right, saw that a car was a short distance off, and thought she better hurry and go then or else she'd have to wait a little while. You've been there - those moments when you think, "ahh, I hesitated. Too late now." Well, she didn't look for people in the crosswalk she was turning into!

By the time we picked ourselves up, fetched our phone/keys/shoes from wherever they'd flown, the girl was leaning her head out the car window saying "OHMYGOSHOHMYGOSH!! Are y'all okaaaaaaaay?! I'm SOOOOO SORRY!!!"

I think we mumbled "yeaaaaah, we're okay..." as we scrambled to the sidewalk to assess our physical state. I needed to catch my breath and figure out "what do I do now?" Y'all, if you'd given me a second, I probably would have come to some sort of my senses to process and think, "hmm, I better get her name and phone number, and probably her insurance information just in case my adrenaline is masking the pain of something more serious and I need her to pay my medical bills," but do you want to know what happened next?

HOMEGIRL DROVE AWAY.

It seemed like a dream. I kept thinking, "that didn't just happen, right?." Yeah, I felt okay right then, and she couldn't have been going more than 8-10 mph as she made that left-hand turn, but SERIOUSLY?! How could you think it's OKAY to FLEE THE SCENE?!

I'm sure had we waited around and asked for help, that somebody driving by may have chased her down to at least get her license plate number, but Alex and I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. That's our natural inclination right, to get away from danger? And in my mind right then, I wanted to get as faaaaaar away from the fear and embarrassment that came from what just happened. But like any person who'd just experienced trauma crossing the street, I sure has heck wasn't going to cross the street again. And we were too shaken up to go get in one of our vehicles and go about our errands.

Alex and I were both pledging sororities at the time, and thankfully the Panhellenic building that houses our sorority chapter rooms is next door to the parking garage. We ran inside, called our parents first {that's when the blubbering tears really hit}, called someone to come give us a ride {yes, a ride back to the safety of our dorm}, and then called campus police. The rest of the story is pretty boring really - an officer met us in the lobby of our dormitory and kinda shrugged, like "sorry that happened, but, come on, you didn't get her name or license plate number, and you don't appear to be injured, so what do you want me to do?"

And that, my friends, is the story of "that one time I got hit by a car." As terrifying as it was, Alex and I can look back on it now and laugh as we tell the story. See, we even took a silly symbolic photo at the end of our freshman year to commemorate what we'd survived together.

Alex was the one who convinced me to go to Baylor, and I'm so very thankful for her friendship. We've been through A LOT together over the years, aside from surviving that terrifying January day!




Blogtember Day 1: Where I'm From
Blogtember Day 2: Three Months Off


1 comment:

  1. That is TOTALLY terrifying. And I hate that campus police woman! I mean, someone HIT YOU WITH A CAR AND DROVE OFF. You were part of a hit and run! I'm getting all worked up over here for you. Thank goodness you're okay! :)

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