It Could Have Been Me Part 1

(this is not as good as the original, but oh well.)
I failed a test. I failed miserably. I wish I could go back and redo it.

The weather earlier this week was terribly snowy and treacherous on the roads. My test occurred while driving home from Salt Lake late Monday night from choir rehearsal.

I was third in line at the stop light. When it turned green, I followed the other two cars as we accelerated up the bridge that would take us over the Union Pacific train depot and then onto the on-ramp for the I-15. Halfway up that incline, the leader of our pack suddenly took an unexpected detour which smashed it's front end head-on into the cement barrier to our right. My instincts sent my foot slamming down on the break where I soon realized the reason for the car's accidental detour - black ice! I lessened the pressure on my foot and with a tight grip, cautiously turned the wheel to my left to avoid the damaged car as it spinned off the concrete and slid into the left two lanes and then back toward the right shoulder. I made it past the black ice and watched as the collision became a reflection in my side-view mirror. Then with a pounding chest and white knuckles, I continued on my way.

But my mind was back on that bridge.

Why didn't I stop? Were the passengers okay? Did they need any help? Why didn't I stop?

I went over the list of excuses in my head:
- There was very little room on the shoulder and if I had stopped, it would have been dangerous and probably caused another accident
- I don't even have a cell phone so I wouldn't have been any help in that area.
- We weren't traveling very fast when the collision happened, so they're probably just fine.
- There were no other vehicles involved, so my testimony wouldn't be needed in regards to police matters.
- The other car between us stopped.
- blah blah blah....

Here I've been writing in this blog about wanting to show more love for strangers, and I didn't take advantage of the most obvious situation.

I've seen news clips about disinterested spectators. Surveillance cameras film a hit and run and the passersby don't even help the injured victim. I have been baffled by such clips. And now? I am one of those spectators!

What is it about survival that makes us so scared to help others? It is such a conflict in my mind. I want to help, but I want to stay safe.

But what if it had been me? It could have been me so easily. Would someone have helped me? I would have definitely needed it - since I don't have a cell phone especially. Would someone have risked their safety to come to aid? Would they have abandoned their comfort and routine to help me in my need?

Would I do the same for them if given another opportunity?



onto Part 2