Monday, August 4, 2008

Out Of My Control

Writen by A Renee Grover

I have been called a control freak by my Aunt because I like things done a certain way. The right way the first time or don't bother to do them at all. And so a lot of things do not get done as I do not have the time to devote to them that I know it will take to do them and my priority list is different than most peoples. Yesterday I was in a situation I did not ask for and the way I dealt with it shames me though I have been told it was out of my control.

Yesterday in the car on the way to the store with my family, that's two kids and two adults, we were confronted by a truck in the middle of the road. My husband slowed the car down to a stop and we watched and waited for the truck to move out of the way. It took off like a rocket and shot down the road. We watched in amazement mixed with fear as the truck going into the curve ahead missed the turn and went into the ditch almost tilting over, not slowing down a beat, and continued in the ditch along the road hitting and soaring over three driveways, boom, boom, boom, before the truck jumped back onto the road fishtailed and shot off again.

Stunned, we looked at each other and just died laughing. Shock, fear, and excitement were mixed in and we were unsure how to deal with the emotions so we laughed it off. We jokingly said maybe he was drunk or just broke up with his wife not really knowing anything about the person driving the truck other than we were very thankful he had not hit us. My husband pulled over and let me take some pictures of a sign I had been wanting to get for a while as in this area of the country they are tearing things down faster than they can build them. We continued to be amazed about what we had seen and as we rounded another corner my husband said something to the effect of well we will know if he made it or not if we see him in those trees up ahead. Just at that moment an elderly man started waving for us to slow down as he ran down his driveway.

We saw why as we rounded the corner. There was the truck. A red car was also damaged but not as badly. There were people around the truck looking and crying and wide eyed. The thing that got me was the sound. The sound of the horn the driver of the truck was lying on.

My husband did not let me get any closer but turned the car around as fast as possible and took us around another way to the store. He would not take me home but made me go shopping. I made him call the police and tell them what we had seen earlier, not three minutes earlier. I had taken a picture of the accident scene very quickly and even a 2 second video before my husband dragged me back into the car.

I called the Daily News Paper when we got home and emailed them the photo and then cried myself silly and went and soaked in a hot bath. I keep hearing the horn. I keep asking myself why I did not call the police when we saw him hit the ditch the first time. I keep asking myself if it would have made a difference. My husband says I am blaming myself for something I could not control but the truth is I feel guilty because I thought about calling the police and then felt sorry for the person driving the truck. I feel guilty because I thought about calling and did not act. The next time I see someone driving on the road like this you can bet your bottom dollar I will be calling the police. I feel not only guilty because I did not call but because I laughed. I laughed. I don't know if he is dead or alive. I don't have the nerve to call and find out. But I laughed. I had no control over what happened and I am ashamed of how I handled myself. I feel much like the workers must have felt who charged the firemen for water on 911 though it is not quite the same. So I would suggest strongly to you should you decide to read this all the way through, think before you get behind the wheel of a vehicle. Your actions could have a major chain reaction and not a good one, besides I might be behind you with my cell phone and I will make the call as I do not want to laugh like that ever again.

A Renee Grover

Semi-Retired Manager of Goodyear Tires, Painter, Poet, Collector, Photographer, Mother, Wife, Gardner, Traveler, Cook, Singer, Comedian, Small business owner, Student, Actress, Writer Mrs Grover has traveled the streets of the United States. She currently resides in Tennessee after meeting her husband and moving from Virginia Beach in 1998.

She graduated in 1983 from North East High in North Little Rock Arkansas, but claims North Pulaski as her true High School. She was a member of TAG for a brief period and also won various awards. After traveling the east coast and living in New York where Mrs Grover tried to pursue a singing career at the speakeasy on west fourth street while working at David's' Cookies, She went to school to cut hair before going into the Navy where she was asked to leave nicely in 1985 due to her inability to conform. She spent the next few years conforming so to speak and living with her Grandparents until moving to Virginia where she went to school to become a service writer and became the first female manager for Mr Kramer.

No comments: