Flat lines and car crashes
Re: Re: Deep gratitude -- roark Top of thread Post Reply Forum
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Genny ®

07/21/2017, 22:07:24
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Hi Mike,

Wowzers!!  Flatlining at all, and twice at that...sure glad your lines started dancing again

I'm going to post another of my stories here for you all, inspired by you.  I never came that close to finding out about the great mystery that awaits us, but I've flirted with IT's friends...and this tale of one of my car crashes introduces us to a man who danced on the other side for a minute too...

Thanks so much for sharing, I'd be curious to know if you remember how you felt upon waking.  Love, G


The Ford F-150 

     New Years Eve, in my 26th year, I met an Angel named Fred.  He was disguised as a Vietnam War Vet turned mountain man recluse.  He was tall and thin, with long greying beard and hair, gruff and weathered, maybe even a little scary looking to some.  But I took one look at him and I knew what he was.  There was absolutely no doubt after only a few minutes of being with him.  There were other, other worldly beings there that night too, but Fred was the only one I could see.

     It was 1995 about to be '96, and I was driving this crazy cool retro 1978 Ford F-150, that came to me for the sole purpose of getting me, my meows, and my things to Durango from Denver,  I'm sure.  It was red and white, and gigantic.  Driving along the curvy mountain roads listening to the mixed cassette tape Kendra made for my move, I felt like a child playing around in granddad's truck.  Singing along to Sonja DaDa and Peter Gabriel...it had a lot of give in the steering wheel and it was bouncy and fun to drive.  Until one day I put my hands on the wheel and I saw it...the crash...at the time, I didn't understand this part of the Sight, but the thought dawned on me, 'if I loose even the slightest bit of control, that's it, no getting it back.'  So I called my Mom, told her about my fear of crashing the truck, and she agreed to help me find a new car after the new year.  The snow so far that year had been fairly mild, so there was no problem driving the twenty minutes into town to ring in the new year in my new home town.  By the end of the night, I was in the best condition of all the friends so I drove everyone home, safely, and decided to take one of them home with me for a little roll in the hay.  It maybe wasn't the best idea considering that we just met a couple times before, but Chris was a very nice guy, we were young and free and the chemistry was great, so why not, right?  Well, God had other plans, and pretty much said, "NO!"

     The road from town to my little house at the base of Missionary Ridge north of town was a winding, dark, sparsely populated, twenty minute haul along a mountainside creek.  It's a runoff from the Animas River ~ River of Lost Souls ~ which was frozen over in parts and running in others.  The mountain and occasional houses were on the right of the road, the creek and land of the animas valley on the left.  The land was covered in snow, but the roads were mostly clear, mostly...the black ice came out of nowhere, and before we were half way home we were suddenly 'flicked off' the road!  You hear it all the time, "it happened so fast, yet in slow motion at the same time," and it's so true!  The whole incident took probably less than 2 minutes, but time was suspended.  As soon as I felt the ice and the control slip out of my hands I knew it was going to be bad, there was just no good place for the truck to go...my vision was coming true and I just told Chris to "hang on, fuck! Hang on," cause we were going down and there was nothing I could do.

     I have no idea how far down the road we went, we spun around twice I think, maybe three times, went flying off the road to the left and landed engine first down into the bank over the partially frozen creek.  I didn't know this until the guy at the wreck yard told me later, but the truck, obviously totaled, landed at a 45 degree angle and it took several bigger trucks to dig it out.  The first crew on the scene the next morning wanted to know 'where the bodies were' it looked so bad.  Neither one of us had seat belts on, I don't think there even were any in the truck, and we were told that both of us should have shot straight through the windshield.  But we didn't.  Chris was still on the passenger side of the seat when we landed, and I was trapped on the floor of his side with my head on his lap.  It was the loudest silence I ever heard.  And then the reality of what just happened sunk in..."Are you Ok?" over and over and over...Jesus, did I just kill this sweet guy?

     No, he was ok.  But he did hit his head by his eyebrow, and he was bleeding pretty bad and lost his contact lens so he couldn't see and was freaking out a little.  "Was I Ok?"  Um...No, I wasn't, so much pain...not sure, I think I can move...we have to get out of this truck...Chris is freaking out...have to help him...can't, too much pain...now what?

     I was so scared, so shocked, (and in actual shock from broken bones), and so guilty and responsible for this disaster, I had to help him.  The driver side was caved in, I learned later that it was the engine pushing through the dashboard, and we had to use the passenger door, no other way out.  From the floor I could reach the door handle which broke off, but he got the door open...somehow...it was wedged into the trees hanging over the creek.  He still couldn't see, so he kinda backed out, feeling his way with his feet...only to discover that we were over the creek at such a bad angle that navigating out would be tricky.  It was freezing and I was in kinda bad shape, and he was really starting to panic about his lack of sight...it was not going well and I was powerless.  And then, in the dead, darkest winter night, as he was hanging half in and half out of the truck, his finger was guided amidst the wreckage directly to his lost contact lens, on the truck floor.  He used the snow to clean it and the blood, got it back in his eye, got his bearings and his sight back, realized he was fine and completely took over our recovery mission.  ...ok...finally...I can take stock of my own damage and try to get the hell out of the truck. 

     This was bit before everyone had cell phones, so we absolutely had to get back up to the road for help, just hoping there would be someone else out that far and that late.  It was my neck and shoulder that were injured, so with Chris' help I was able to climb out and through the trees ok and we made it to the road.  It was so dark and cold and eerily still, so calm and quiet and oddly beautiful after the noise of what had just happened.  You couldn't see the carnage from the road, it was the same old winter wonderland it always was, unless you were us.  We saw it at the same time, in the distance straight ahead, the most beautiful little porch light for us to follow.  We got half way up the driveway, I looked up, and there he was...this tall, thin, long haired shadow in the light waving us forward.  He had heard the commotion, was up anyway and he was waiting for us.  He said to Chris, "Yep, she's hurt, get on in here."  We got to the steps and I looked up into his gentle eyes and asked him his name, "Fred" was all he said as he took me under his arm and so, so gently led me to sit by the fire he made for us, while Chris used the phone.

     His place was exactly what you would expect from a bachelor mountain man, stuff everywhere, everything old but perfectly functional, the man cave vibe for sure but not dirty or disgusting, it was warm and caring.  Even his 'porn' was good, just nice pictures of naked ladies in respectful poses over by the bar.  As I was sitting there by the cast iron fire place, looking around and explaining to Fred, who was standing right over me, what happened, I noticed his dog on the couch across the room, and he had some kind of contraption attached to him.  He told me of how his dog broke it's back and that the Veterinarian really didn't think he could recover well, and thought euthanasia might be best.  Fred had the vision to build a wheelchair of sorts for his beloved pooch, and give him the support and time he would need to heal instead...and it was working.  Right then I saw another layer of this man's kind soul and I fell a little in love.  He went to get the dog so we could meet, and as soon as he got a foot or so away from me, the pain that I had somehow forgotten about came rushing back to the forefront and I just went, "whoa, what the fuck?" and almost threw up it was so intense!

     He came back over to me, apologized, and held his hands over my shoulder, maybe 6 to 8 inches, and within seconds the pain started flowing right out of my body...and he was responsible.  Fred was just standing there, magically drawing the energy of pain right out and pushing the energy of medicine right in...I could actually feel the flow.  I was stunned, it was incredible and unlike anything I'd ever experienced before.  It was amazing for Chris too, I saw him watching in awe, and I just looked at Fred with wonder and gratitude through my stream of tears, and he knew I needed an explanation...

     It turns out, he had been in his own, much more horrific accident about six months before.  He was out riding his motorcycle and got hit by a car, and spent two weeks in a coma.  He doesn't have a memory for what happened to him in that time, but when he came out of the coma he found himself to have what he called "significant healing powers."  It was truly surreal and beautiful and amazing, and so was he!  The whole time he was near me, I was ok.  Otherwise, not...he had total control of the pain I had from a shattered clavicle and two slipped discs.

     He was incredibly shy and reserved, I somehow assumed that he might be traumatized by his time in Vietnam, so I never encouraged him to do more with his gift.  He seemed content to be alone with nature and his animals and a few close friends...he didn't need the intrusion of miracle seekers I thought.  But I was truly humbled and grateful that he would share his gift with me.  I thanked him as appropriately as I could in that moment, and vowed to keep him forever in my heart.  We were so far out of town that an ambulance would have taken longer than the accident crew, so the tow company sent us a ride to the hospital, and we left.  I took a long hard look around so as not to forget the landscape, I never want to forget where the Angels live.

     Chris took over from there.  Away from Fred, I went into shock again, the pain was unreal and it was all I could do to stay awake.  And even though he got a scar instead of getting laid, Chris was amazing.  He did all the talking and paperwork at the hospital, stayed with me through the whole night and never blamed me for any of it.

     When the police came to do their thing, the officer felt so bad for us, he basically just said that we suffered enough and that the only thing he had to report, was that I didn't have insurance...I let it go because I was getting a new car in a few days.  He wrote a ticket which sets a date for court, said he thought the judge would be lenient if I just told the story, wished us happy new year and left.  No accident report, no DUI test, not even a slap on the wrist...the court date on the ticket fell on a Sunday, it was automatically dismissed from the court..like it never happened.

     I had to sign the title of the truck over to the wreckage yard to cover the cost of digging it out of the frozen valley.  I was sad to see it go, I only had it for a few months and I poured so much cash into it just to get to Durango...but when I saw it, I almost threw up.  The sorrow of a minor material loss shape shifted into something much bigger and deeper...I can't even name it in one word.  It became painfully obvious why everyone was treating me the way they were...the extra kind eyes and lingering smiles, the non ticket ticket, the no charge except for the title wrecking fee...all of it.  The groundskeeper just happened to have grabbed the box of Kleenex on the way to the yard as he escorted me to my baby to say goodbye.  I asked him where it was, he gestured to the unrecognizable mangled pile of metal right in front of me, and my heart sank.  Jaw dropping, gut wrenching, oh my god are you fucking kidding me shock.  I had no control of the stream of tears he knew I'd have, and he just nonchalantly handed me the box.  

     I'm sure I couldn't say anything other than 'oh my god.'  He so sweetly patted my good shoulder and said, "Yeah honey, we're all real glad you're here...I'll give ya a few minutes."  And he left me alone, to mourn the truck...and say whatever I needed to say to God.  One of my favorite TV characters said it best when his brother in arms asked him if he believed in miracles.  He said, "Nope.  Seen 'em though."  That anyone walked away from the twisted and torn and demolished Ford in a past life hunk of old dreams, was nothing short of a miracle, and I graciously thanked the powers that be for wrapping their miracle around me, and said goodbye.  The slipped discs, broken collar bone, the lost truck, and eventually lost friends, all seemed heavy at the time.  Looking back though, they were a small price to pay for being graced with the friendship and protection of an Angel named Fred...and whoever lives by the creek on his land in The Animas Valley Of Lost Souls.






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