I’m starting this journal from an airplane somewhere between Dallas and Atlanta. I’m on my way home to the Carolinas after several emotional days in Texas. (This is why there was no Tuesday Travel Journal last week.)
Late Sunday night February 18 I got “the call.” The one every parent fears worse than death. The familiar voice on the other end of the phone said, “Trevor’s been in a bad car wreck.”
Trevor is my 20-year-old son. He’s attending college in Texas.
I’m not sure exactly what Trevor’s mom, Holly, said after that. Something about 65 MPH… the car rolling multiple times… but Trevor is okay. Dazed, beat up pretty good, and frightened to tears for his friends who were in the car too and were just life-flighted to a Houston area hospital.
For the next hour I twitched back and forth between “dead-eye, focused Mike” and a teary-eyed Mike who couldn’t breathe.
Between calls to and from Holly in Nashville, and calls to Texas these were the thoughts speeding through my head:
3 KIDS LIFE-FLIGHTED! Dear God I beg you to save them.
The car rolled at 65 MPH… how is it possible that Trevor is okay?
He could be bleeding internally and the adrenalin and shock are masking it. It’s dangerous and happens a lot.
Does Trevor’s cell phone still work? No answer.
What hospital are they being sent to?
I can’t find my wallet.
I have friends in Houston… where did I just set my cell phone?
Why won’t my laptop download these Internet pages on Houston area hospitals faster?
Honey, can you book me the next flight to Houston?
How much underwear should I pack?
Trevor must be in shock. He needs to get to a hospital NOW!
My cell rings. I don’t recognize the number. It’s Trevor calling from someone else’s cell. He sounds completely numb, confused and in pain. I insist he get to a hospital immediately, told him I love him and I’ll be on the next flight. He breaks down for the first time. I’m on breakdown #4.
Anna, my wife, went into “maniac journalist” mode. She started gathering information, booking flights, e-mailing family and friends, adding more underwear to my suitcase. It was like watching three people work.
My friends in Houston tell me which hospital has the best trauma center and that the kids are probably headed there. They also offer their homes, their cars, their time, anything I need. This makes me cry again (#5).
I made one last call to Texas to make sure Trevor was headed for an ER, took my seat on the next flight from Charlotte to Atlanta, put on some dark sunglasses and started crying… again (#6).
Between flights in Atlanta I sent text messages to Trevor’s college friend’s Jocelyn and Matt. Jocelyn was at Trevor’s apartment notifying others. Matt was at the emergency room with Trevor, 90 minutes from Dallas, where my son was now undergoing a CAT scan and chest X-rays. He’s been there for a couple hours but no word from the doctors. And no word on the other kids. All of this worries me.
On the ground in Atlanta I change my connecting flight from Houston to Dallas. On the plane it’s dark sunglasses and waterworks again. (I’m going to stop counting now. I like to think I’m a tough dude. But that’s delusional. I’m a total dork, mush-ball. I got no game.)
As luck would have it I’m seated next to a man built like Stonehenge. And he’s reading a body building magazine. Check that. He’s doing a crossword puzzle in a body building magazine. Who knew? Safe to say there was no battle for supremacy to decide who got the armrest. I just hoped he wouldn’t notice me wiping away tears.
In Dallas the rental car agents are wearing rubber gloves. I soon learn why. Not sure how they did it but they managed to get my wallet out of the front pocket in my pants by reaching through my rear end. They tell me the additional $100.00 in fees and taxes are to help billionaire Jerry Jones build a new football stadium for the millionaire Dallas Cowboys to play in. I don’t know if that’s true. If it is, Jerry Jones owes me a dinner and a little romance.
As I left the rental car counter the woman said, “Have a nice day!” Then she put on a set of clean gloves and “helped” the next customer out of his pants.
The drive from Dallas to Trevor was an eternity. An hour into the trip I get a text message: Trevor’s out of the emergency room. I call him on his friend’s cell. At this point it’s Monday morning, roughly 12 hours since the accident. He’s been at the hospital for I think six or seven hours… I don’t know… it’s a blur. He tells me he believes the other kids are being released from the hospital in Houston sometime today, and that he has a concussion, but no internal bleeding, a bad headache, a sore neck, scrapes and bruises. (Because of the turmoil and trauma he doesn’t yet realize he’s lost some sight in his left eye. It isn’t until later that day while he and I are talking that it hits him some of his vision is gone. We’ll head back to the hospital to learn he has a blind spot due to blood in his left retina.)
His friends Callan, McCall and Win (Not a law firm. Those are their first names.) also have concussions. They’re traumatized, cut up, bruised and ache everywhere. Callan had surgery on his hand. Win has a fracture in her right forearm. McCall looks like she’s still wearing her seatbelt because it left deep bruises and in spots burned the top layer of her skin. They’re about the nicest kids you could ever meet. Each of them is less concerned with themselves and more concerned about the others.
They’ll pick glass out of their hair and scalps for at least a day.
What saved them? Airbags and angels.
This is critical; they did the right things. According to the police report, they were not speeding. They were wearing seatbelts. I can’t overstate that. It’s questionable if they would have survived the accident had they not worn their seatbelts. The car also had side-curtain airbags which deployed. Emergency crews had to cut the roof off with “the jaws of life,” to get Win and Callan, both on the passenger side, out of the car.
My son and his friends are lucky… blessed. It’s a miracle of God and science both.
I’m home now and have been for a couple days and Holly is with Trevor. I’m still crying. It hits me like a wave now and again. I can’t control it. I’ll tell you why. It’s partly because I’m grateful beyond words my son and his college buddies are alive.
It’s also because I can’t shake this thought: I know in some other city somewhere else that same Sunday night a dad or a mom just like me got “the call” and the news crushed them. Their son or daughter is dead. That thought makes it hard for me to breathe even as I write it.
What else do we really have in this world? Our homes? Jobs? Money? You’d give it all up in a heartbeat to save your child’s life.
My oldest brother Skipper died from leukemia when he was 3. That was more than 50 years ago. I was born 10 years after he died. Talk to my mom about Skipper today and her eyes fill with tears. The sadness is never far below the surface. And that’s the thing. There’s no getting over the death of your child. It never leaves you.
Maybe I’m crazy, but I don’t think it’s supposed to. Loss and grief are part of true love. At least on earth they are.
And I can’t stop thinking about the other parents out there who lost a child and will never be the same again. They’ll reconstruct their lives over time but there will always be an empty room. If I could I would sit with them and just listen. Tell me about your boy. What was your daughter like?
It’s not much help really, but my heart goes out to them. From this day forward, they will be in my prayers.
Be safe,
 |
Mike Redding |
FIRST OF ALL, ANNA CROWLEY IS PROBABLY THANKING ALL THAT'S HOLY THAT THE TWO OF YOU FOUND EACH OTHER. YOU AREN'T A DORK, JUST A LOVING FATHER, HUSBAND AND FRIEND--ALL THOSE LUCKY PEOPLE.
SECONDLY, I HAD A 17 YEAR OLD FRIEND WHO WAS TO BE MY SISTER-IN-LAW. SHE WAS KILLED IN AN CAR ACCIDENT IN 1962. MY MOTHER-IN-LAW WAS NEVER THE SAME. I SEE THIS PERSON IN MY CHILDREN, NOT ALOT, BUT IN LITTLE WAYS.
KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK--I USUALLY LAUGH AT YOUR COLUMNS, BUT ONCE IN A WHILE TEARS ARE GOOD,
Hang in there. Just last year my daughter, Lauren's, classmate was killed in Lenoir while drag racing and we still haven't gotten over it. At least your son did all the right things. Just wish Adam had (3/9/89-3/3/06). Angels and prayers are looking after our children. Just sometimes the outcome is better than others. God bless!
That was a beautiful and touching story. I am so glad that the worst did not happen and that everyone is OK.
Mike (& Andy 2):
As a parent I pray that I never need endure the heartbreak your family has ...although my concerns stray to my own 20/yr. old son almost daily (we all know how kids can be).
I send my most heartfelt prayers for all. I don't really know what else to say but take your time and heal your family unit for that is most important. Only then will I look forward to your next report.
God Speed Mike
et. all
Chris
You don't look old enough to have a 20-year old. Glad he is doing well. I can empathize with your total feelings from the phone call. In 1982, I was a single mom working my part-time job in the evening near Idlewild/Independence Blvd intersection. One of my son's (then 13) came running in the store to advise that David has been hit by a car at the aforementioned crossing. I don't remember running the block to Independence, but when I arrived, my son was lying in the middle of the intersection, not moving, with a deep gash on his forehead.I thought this was the end. The throat in the stomach feeling was very real and all else around me was a blur of activity from emergency responders. Thank goodness for all of them. My son began moving as he was put in the ambulance and he was talking coherently. We were blessed that day and the angels were near.
Glad to know that your son and his friends are okay.
Mike, I am so sorry you got that call, but am SO happy that Trevor and his friends are OK. Please know that you and your family always have prayers coming your way.
Bless you for this blog. The pain you and your family and friends went through at this traumatic time radiates through this piece. Again, bless you for this blog.
I hope your son and his friends get better soon. Prayers your way. Thank goodness for Seat belts and Airbags and Angels too!
Mike,
I love your Carolina Traveler shows and regularly share them with my Canadian friends because they touch the heart of the Carolinas in such a unique way. But this article in particular touched even deeper. I've included my URL to a photo of our grandson, who was killed by a drunk driver who also happened to be his own father. When Ty wasn't strapped in his carseat and the car sideswiped another family on a mountain road, his little body tossed inside as they careened down a mountainside. We have been assured by medical authorities that Little Ty didn't suffer, but now there's a hole the size of a canyon within our family. As time marched on, I now am the parent of two teenager drivers, who in their youth, feel invincible despite the parental drumming of the harsh reality of knowing it could all be over in a moment. I'm not that old that I don't remember my youth and the first few years of driving. Interesting how having children changes your perception of the world quickly - faster than any political party!
Thanks for sharing -- and I'm so thankful that Trevor and his friends are healing and recovering. My heart also goes out to the parents that get the phone call most feared - it's a day and time that will forever stay in your heart. (5:45 AM, July 29, 2001)
Sincerely,
Holly Hill
Rock Hill, SC