Last Friday evening,
on the way back from Orange County, I was driving home on one of the Los
Angeles freeways. The radio was going
and I was in a contented frame of mind since the BYU Volleyball team had come from
two games down to win the next three and beat the #1 team in a match I had just witnessed. I had driven about 45 minutes since leaving the game.
Suddenly, the
lights on my dashboard lit up and I felt my Toyota Prius lose power. I moved over one lane to the far right lane,
and pushed the button to illuminate my emergency flashers. The car coasted for awhile and I looked
anxiously for an exit or at least a shoulder on which to roll to a stop. There was no shoulder, and I suddenly
realized to my horror that my car was not going get over the next incline and
that it would come to rest in a lane of traffic. Behind me, there was a slightly banked curve that became
a straightaway for about 100-150 yards. I probably should have exited the car and gone on the other side of the concrete barrier, but it just didn't occur to me.
I uttered a
vocal prayer asking God to watch over me. Some seconds later, I had presence of
mind to use my cell phone and dialed 911.
I told the dispatcher my dilemma and told her that I was stalled in
traffic and to send someone as soon as possible. She asked if I had AAA coverage and I
confirmed that I did. She stated that
she would send someone right away, but I was already feeling panic. (Writing this right now I feel the knot in my
stomach that was there that night.) I
started breathing heavily and rolled down my window and started waving a rag so
as to draw attention to my car and to me.
I focused on my
indoor rearview mirror and watched the traffic behind me. Helplessness and despair overcame me as I
fully realized the precariousness of my position. I would stare in horror and panic as I would
see cars quickly approaching me in my lane, and scream, “Please don’t hit me!” as they swerved at the very last second into the next lane.
Sometimes a car
or worse, a semi truck, would be in my lane and I could see that there was a
vehicle in the next lane that was innocently trapping them in my lane. I would scream at the top of my lungs, “Oh
God, please help me!” On one such
occasion, a semi truck screeched to a halt, a few feet behind me, his tractor
shuttering with the braking.
I felt so
vulnerable, so out of control. “Father,
I don’t want to die!” “Please save me!” I would see cars drawing fast behind me and
scream at them to not hit me. In a
panic, I crazily continued to wave my rag, and would feel my body tense up
waiting for an impact. “God, take care
of me!” "Oh, God!" “Oh, help me!”
Once again, in a panic I
called 911 again and begged them to quickly send someone, thinking my luck was running out. I figure that I had endured this terror about
6-7 minutes, thinking that it was only a matter of time before someone would
fail to see me and would hit my car full speed. The dispatcher said that someone was on their
way. “Where are they?” “Oh God, please help me!” (I once again feel the despair I felt and weep as I write this.)
I continued to
look in my rearview mirror, terrorized by my situation and knowing there was
nothing I could do about it but rely on a merciful God to save me.
When about 10
minutes or so had gone by, I was screaming at the approach of every vehicle, when suddenly I saw the lights on the dashboard flicker. A few seconds later, feeling utter panic and
terror, I saw that the emergency flashers had stopped and my car was now completely
dark. I had no interior light to use and
the freeway was not particularly well lit.
I faced the reality that indeed I likely was now going to be hit and
killed. Crying uncontrollably, I was
utterly devastated. "Oh, God!" “Father, I don’t
want to die!!!”
As I kept my
gaze in the rearview mirror waiting for the inevitable, I suddenly noticed that there
weren’t more cars coming. A few seconds
later, I saw that a Highway Patrol car was attempting to do the weaving traffic
brake thing. I was shaking, hoarse,
completely overwhelmed by adrenaline. I
broke down. An unbelievable miracle had
just occurred.
The patrolman
pulled up behind me, cars in all lanes respectfully stopped to see what he was
going to do. After he walked to talk
with me, I did my best to communicate coherently, and he told me to continue to
stay in my car and that a tow truck would be arriving shortly, which it
did. The tow truck driver, Mr. Armando
Flores, took complete control, instructing me to leave my car while he hitched
it up and to sit in his truck cab and try to compose myself, calmly telling me
everything was going to be okay.
I could not stop
shaking or crying, still overwhelmed by my emotions and adrenaline, but as the
minutes past, and he eventually joined me in the cab, this angel continued to
do his best to calm my heart and to reassure me that the ordeal was over and
that I was safe and sound. And so I was.
Looking back, through the tears I have felt writing this blogpost and reliving this harrowing experience, I
see how I was protected by Providence. A
merciful God was watching over me and was there in my complete and utter extremity. It was not my time to depart this life; it
very easily could have been. I was sent
that Highway Patrolman at the exact time I needed him and then sent Mr. Flores
to calm me and assure me. Praise God
from whom all blessings flow!
