Sigh... The years of 2001/2002 were full of so many learning experiences.
I've always wondered why they call it "sweet" 16. According to Wikipedia:
Sweet sixteen parties mark a coming of age.
I often think of coming of age having more to do with puberty but in my case it was the age I was finally allowed to date, to drive, to get a job, basically gain a LOT more independence from my parents. Note: I did NOT have severe issues in my parental relationships, just a healthy appetite to grow up and be mature.
My parents had two cars available for me to learn in.
#1 1996 Ford Aerostar Van
#2 1985 Chevy Camaro
With Drivers License in hand I drove that van on many dates until one night while participating in the Manti Pageant...
That night, after the performance as everyone was loading up, some siblings from a family, that I informally adopted as mine, decided they would like to ride home with me to enjoy the air conditioning the van employed. I was unusually firm in making sure that everyone riding with me was wearing the seat-belts and we prayed for safety as we traveled home.
While driving through the canyons, my headlights approaching a corner, I heard in my mind, very clearly, a voice, saying
"Slow down."
I thought it strange, I was already going 5 miles below the 55mph speed limit because there were signs warning to take the corner a little slower. Strange or not, I rested my foot on the brake just in case. Without applying pressure the pedal went down further as if of it's own accord. I understood the voice had meant I REALLY needed to slow WAY down.
I began round the curve in the road at about 25mph. Then I saw it. There, beside the road on my passengers side, was an elk, nibbling the leaves from a young bush. The elk looked my way, standing stock still until we were nearly past it, and then it leapt. I slammed harder on the brakes. There was no avoiding it. The head crashed into the center of the wind shield. The shoulder wrapped around the passenger door, the rump caving in the back sliding door. Glass sprayed everywhere I held the steering wheel with all I had to keep from swerving, as both front tires popped, I could hear the metal grinding against the road. When we finally stopped sliding I could feel my self breathing heavily from the effort. Someone from the back seat asked if I was ok. I answered yes and asked if everyone else was alright. When everyone answered that they were ok, my first thought was of the people that were still on the road behind us that would be coming around that corner full speed. I opened my door and pushed the van out of the road, with only the assistance of angels.
Next, I told everyone to stay where they were in the van until I came back. There was no phone reception in the canyons and no way to call for help. I knew someone who lived a few miles up the road with a van I could use to get everyone home. Completely out of character, I ran the whole way. (I HATE running)
Once the adrenaline wore off, I had delivered the other kids safely to their home, I cried out the fear I had held in order to function, keeping the others safe. I slept but was troubled by dreams of everything that had happened.
The next day officials came to ask me what happened. I told them and the officers looked at each other then back at me. Then with amazement one of them explained the miracle, and their surprise at how my account matched up with their inspection of the scene. They explained that if I had been going the speed limit the impact of the elk would have sent the van into a roll, off the road into the ravine that was still high with snow run off. If we had landed upside down, we would likely have all drowned even if we had survived the roll. And then how I had pushed the van out of the road with a totaled engine, no tires...
To this day I marvel and praise the Lord. It was horrible still, but it could have been so much worse.
My poor dad had to depart with his beloved van. It was beyond repair.
Later that year I also ran the camero into the ground, it had exceeded the milage it was supposed to run and repairs were more costly than we valued the car. It was fun while it lasted, picking up young men in that car ;)
