One of my friends posted a question on her Facebook wall today: “If you could live one day in your life over again, which day would you choose?”
And so began my flashbacks to a late night (actually, it was early morning, but I had been out all night, and it was still dark, so we’ll call it “night”) in the summer of 1999.
My roommate and I had just left a bar in Jacksonville, Arkansas, and were driving past the McCain exit in North Little Rock when the driver in front of us swerved and slammed on his brakes. My roommate was driving her Sunfire, and she too, hit her brakes and swerved to miss what was lying in the “slow” lane of the highway. As we came to a stop, I could make out that it was a man. We pulled over and got out of the car and heard screams of “No, no, why?, why?…” The gut-wrenching cries were coming from the median of the highway, where the other driver was knelt-down, in what seemed to be a hysterical cry to God. (He would later tell us and the police officers that he hit the man, who had been crossing the highway in the dark.)
No time to deal with the driver… We noticed the rather large man (I’d guess he was about 220 pounds) was lying on his back, but we could see the rise and fall of his chest, so we knew he was still alive and breathing, but was probably knocked unconscious from the accident. Before the two of us could collect our thoughts and devise a plan (neither of us had cell phones at the time), we saw headlights coming toward us.
As the 18-wheeler approached at interstate speeds (probably 70 mph or faster), we ran toward it, waving the truck over to the fast lane, so he would not hit the unconscious man in the road. The trucker saw us, signaled, and moved into the left lane. Unfortunately, the driver of the red SUV (with Texas plates) behind him didn’t see us in time. The red SUV ran over the man with both of its right tires. I don’t know how the driver managed to maintain control of the SUV, but he/she did… they never hit their brakes. I hope that they had no idea that what they hit was a person, and that they continued on, thinking they had hit a tire or a deer.
After the SUV had hit “Sal”, he was then lying face-down on the side of the road… and his breathing had stopped.
We ran into the Target parking lot nearby and found a pay-phone to call 911.
We went back to wait with “Sal” and tried to console the (still) hysterical other driver, a young black man about our own age – early 20′s. I didn’t get his name, but often wish I had. He was convinced that he had killed the man. We tried to convince him otherwise. “He was breathing. You didn’t kill him, I swear…. We’ve called for help… It’s not your fault.”
The cops and ambulance came.
Sal was taken to St Vincent’s hospital in Little Rock; he was dead on arrival.
As the paramedics were loading Sal into the ambulance, a man appeared in the median, gas can in one hand, the other rubbing the top of his head, as he yelled out, “No, no, Sal, man, no!” My roommate and I went over to stop him, police officers joined us. From this man, we found out the identity of Salvador Lopez. According to the friend, Sal had passed out (drunk) in the friend’s car. The friend had run out of gas and left Sal sleeping in the car. Sal must have woke up and headed toward the lights from the Target shopping center, crossing the highway in the dark. We also found out that Sal was alone in the states and was supposed to be traveling back to Cuba to visit his sick mother.
I’m not sure if the friend had any way of notifying Sal’s family. I hope he did, but my gut tells me he did not.
I try not to have regrets in life. I try to learn from mistakes and move on. But this is one mistake that I truly regret. We always see in movies and are taught in school that if you suspect a neck or back injury to NOT move the victim… to call paramedics for help. That’s what went thru our minds — “don’t move him… you may cause more damage”. But looking back, we should have just grabbed the guy by his ankles and pulled him onto the shoulder. But we didn’t. And that’s probably my one and only regret in life.
It’s been nearly 13 years, and I still flinch when I look up and see people on the side of the road. I still have occasional nightmares. And I often think about the young guy in the median, on his knees, and I pray he was able to forgive himself.
So, to answer my friend’s Facebook question– while it would be nice to go back and relive my wedding or the days my kids were born… or attend a special event that I missed… or say “goodbye” to a loved one who passed without hearing those words… I’d go back to that night in the summer of ’99… and I’d save Sal.
