Lucky to be alive keeps gratitude at the forefront

Perspective is something that allows us to appreciate our lives, our families and our country. Lately, with so much bad news surrounding us, and after just returning from Africa where such extreme poverty exists everywhere, I find myself reflecting on one of those People magazine-type stories about someone living through a life-threatening experience and coming out a changed person. It’s a story I’ve shared with my boys, when they were upset about a trivial matter, as it happened to me in June 2005.

Driving alone, I fell asleep at the wheel. In the middle of nowhere with only my dog as company, and the cruise control set in the low 70s, I drifted off to sleep as the sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon, in spite of a Monster drink (Red Bull equivalent) and in spite of stopping several times to stretch and do some jumping jacks. Lost in thought, I just slipped away to Neverland. Neverland almost became never more.

Startled awake as the car drove over the shoulder, I quickly realized what had happened. Grabbing the wheel and holding on for dear life, trying desperately to control the swerving SUV, I didn’t even remember if I hit the brakes. Mind going at light-speed, the car crashed through a barbed wire barrier and headed down into a river wash. Over boulders the size of large beach balls, the car literally flew nose-first into the wash. The momentum carried the car into a front side flip, spiraling over once or twice landing right side up, facing the opposite direction.

Steaming, all air bags released, the smell of burning rubber in the air, I took what felt like my first breath.

First thought: I’m alive and apparently not bleeding, though I felt a growing swelling around my right eye.

Second thought: Is my dog OK.

Third thought: Somebody up there likes me.

The driver’s door was stuck but I was able to pry it open. I called out my dog’s name, but he seemed nowhere to be found. Gradually fearing I had killed my beloved dog, I began circling the wreck, calling his name. Each larger circle revealed more car wreckage and parts strewn in the stream from the car. After a couple of minutes my dog came bounding over the edge of the river wash.

He seemed miraculously OK. But, I soon noticed a limp from his right front paw. Nonetheless, the reality that my dog and I were OK was just beginning to hit me. Now what. I found my cell-phone on the floor of the passenger compartment. It was on and it had reception. Called 911.

I couldn’t describe to the dispatcher where I was, other than in a river wash adjacent to an overpass. I remembered, vaguely, the last city I passed. She asked if I needed an ambulance and I said maybe. She said an officer would be there shortly. Back to the car, and a bit calmer now, I looked it over. The front right wheel was flat on the ground, like a hovercraft. The sun roof was buckled. All the air bags were opened, but now deflated. Car parts were everywhere as was broken glass, yet no cuts on me. Amazing. The car was obviously toast so I began getting together what was worth salvaging. Couldn’t find my watch, which had been strapped on my wrist.

Twenty minutes later the officer arrived. He quickly assessed the situation and determined where the car had veered off the highway, some 300 yards up the road. He tracked its direction, through the barbed wire fence, over the boulders and up into the wash, flipping somewhere near the bottom. He said it was a miracle anyone survived, let alone with nothing more than an apparent black eye. He also said that usually anyone (or any animal) thrown from a vehicle ends up dead; another miracle that my dog was fine. He also noted that this stretch of highway was divided and that the majority of the highway is two-lanes in both directions. He explained that if I’d veered off to the left, just as I had on this divided portion of the highway, but done so on the two-lane portion of the highway, I would’ve potentially gone head on into another car going the other direction. At 70 mph times two; hmmm, you do the math, you figure the consequences.

And, finally, he commented that given where the car had landed, basically under an overpass, it was unlikely anyone would’ve noticed the wreck. Had I been unable to extricate myself from the car, it was anyone’s guess how long I would have been trapped. A couple of hours later, my dog and I were heading back home in a rental car.

About eight hours after leaving my house I returned home. A shower revealed my only other injury, besides a mildly sore neck and shoulders, was a minor scratch on my calf. The officer found my watch in the car, working fine. Another curiosity. What purpose was there for me to continue living? Why was I spared when so many die in much calmer accidents? Would I actually make good on this blessing of another chance. Would I ever again get upset over the little stuff? Life is a miracle and I had just lived one. I am regularly reminded of my incredible good fortune and my gratitude still holds true and strong to this day.

Bruce Sallan was an award-winning television executive and producer for 25 years. He can be reached at: brucesallan@gmail.com.