I wanted to do a post on the anniversary of my dad's accident, but I've been 'too busy'. Seems like I'm always 'too busy' to do much of anything except work, sleep & eat; in that order.
My dad was a firefighter working two days on, two days off. He was the President of the firefighter's union local 3574; over-seeing contracts and disputes through-out the whole county (almost 500,000 people population). There are city firefighters, then there are county firefighters; my dad was a big shot. Feared by the higher-ups and revered by the 'little guys'. He was the one who fought for justice and equality and respect for the 'little guys'. He wasn't afraid to speak to the newspapers and go on the local news to speak for and against what he believed and didn't believe in. People knew him and other people definitely knew OF him. Then one night, it all changed.
Tuesday October 9, 1997 was the night in which our lives changed forever. I was 10 years old and in 5th grade. I woke up around 3am to find the house full of people. I sat up in my bed and could see through the crack in my door out into the living room. I didn't put my glasses on but could see the blurry form on my dad standing with what appeared to be his arm in a sling. 'Nice. Daddy broke his arm tonight.' I thought to myself. I didn't bother getting out of bed to go hear the story; I'd hear it the next day from Mommy on the way to school.
The next morning I got up as usual and took my shower. The phone kept ringing and Daddy kept answering it talking to different people. I could tell by the tone in his voice when he was talking serious business or when he was talking to a friend. I didn't pay much attention. People starting coming by the house shortly there-after... it was a little weird as it was so early in the morning and it was 'just a broken arm'. I started paying attention.
I don't really remember the point at which it all pulled together for me as to what happened that night. Daddy hadn't 'just broken his arm'. Daddy had been run-down by, hit by, dragged along with and pinned under a semi-truck on I-95 that night. He and his partner had been tending to an auto accident at the top of the overpass when a semi-truck came plowing through the scene collecting my dad, his partner, an older gentleman, and two other women. My dad's partner was able to wriggle himself out from under the semi- to get back to the firetruck to call for emergency back-up. My father and the other 3 were still pinned under the cab of the truck with diesel fuel pooling up around them.
Needless to say, my dad survived. Everyone survived that night except for one woman. One of the women trapped under the semi- with my dad who asked him to hold her hand because she 'was scared'. He held her hand and told her everyone was doing their best to get them out from under that truck. He held her hand until they told him she had died.
Come to find out, the driver of the semi- had a suspended license which the company knew about but continued to let him drive, he had his girlfriend in the truck with him which is illegal and they also found narcotics in the truck. I don't know the specifics, but we sued Radio Shack and Tandy Trucking Company for damages and loss of whatever. Our family (my dad, my mom and myself) went through this shit for 5 years until a settlement was finally reached. A settlement with Radio Shack, a settlement with Tandy and a settlement with the county for his disability. Being 11/12/13 years old and having to go for depositions and explain to complete strangers the ways in which this accident has changed your relationship with you father is hard.
My dad is now out on permanent disability due to injuries obtained as well as mental health issues. Post-traumatic stress disorder, anxiety and depression are all REAL things. I've seen it, first hand. He's fine though. He has back problems which are flaring right now, but if you didn't know this story, you would think he was completely normal guy who doesn't work but somehow goes on (sometimes multiple) vacations every year and lives in a 3,000 sq ft home on 3 acres of land.
All of this happened at such a pivotal time in my life growing up that it MADE me grow up. There's a song that I always think of when I think of this story and around the anniversary of the accident - Tracy Lawrence: You Find Out Who Your Friends Are - and it's all SO very true. A lot of things changed once the settlements were over. A lot of people starting getting jealous and bitter. People started to hate. My mom and dad cut ties with those people soon after that. We had been through enough drama and enough shit to last us the rest of our lives, we didn't need more. Some family members still don't understand why we don't do things for other family members, like buy them a car because theirs aren't running or hand them $600 so that they can make rent for the month... you know what? This ain't the Salvation Army. We don't do hand-outs. Yeah, we go on vacations. Yeah, we live in a big house with lots of land. Yeah, my dad bought me my first car. Yeah, he bought me another one when that one died. And yeah, he bought me a THIRD one when the second one died. But guess what!? We've been to hell and back to be able to have these things. They still have bills! They still pay a mortgage. They still have two car payments, electric bills, water bills, phone bills and cable bills every month! We don't sit home all day and roll around in cash. Yeah, we're more 'well off' than anyone else in the family, but at what price?
T.I. said it best and I live by these words now - we also have them up on the refrigerator -
"If you ain't walked a mile in my shoes and you ain't lived a day in my life
You ain't survive the shit I done survived
You ain't had to deal with the shit I done had to deal with homeboy
You can't motherfuckin' judge me, partner.
In order to understand my train of thought
You'll have to put yourself in my position.
You can't expect me to think like you cause my life ain't like yours."
My dad was a firefighter working two days on, two days off. He was the President of the firefighter's union local 3574; over-seeing contracts and disputes through-out the whole county (almost 500,000 people population). There are city firefighters, then there are county firefighters; my dad was a big shot. Feared by the higher-ups and revered by the 'little guys'. He was the one who fought for justice and equality and respect for the 'little guys'. He wasn't afraid to speak to the newspapers and go on the local news to speak for and against what he believed and didn't believe in. People knew him and other people definitely knew OF him. Then one night, it all changed.
Tuesday October 9, 1997 was the night in which our lives changed forever. I was 10 years old and in 5th grade. I woke up around 3am to find the house full of people. I sat up in my bed and could see through the crack in my door out into the living room. I didn't put my glasses on but could see the blurry form on my dad standing with what appeared to be his arm in a sling. 'Nice. Daddy broke his arm tonight.' I thought to myself. I didn't bother getting out of bed to go hear the story; I'd hear it the next day from Mommy on the way to school.
The next morning I got up as usual and took my shower. The phone kept ringing and Daddy kept answering it talking to different people. I could tell by the tone in his voice when he was talking serious business or when he was talking to a friend. I didn't pay much attention. People starting coming by the house shortly there-after... it was a little weird as it was so early in the morning and it was 'just a broken arm'. I started paying attention.
I don't really remember the point at which it all pulled together for me as to what happened that night. Daddy hadn't 'just broken his arm'. Daddy had been run-down by, hit by, dragged along with and pinned under a semi-truck on I-95 that night. He and his partner had been tending to an auto accident at the top of the overpass when a semi-truck came plowing through the scene collecting my dad, his partner, an older gentleman, and two other women. My dad's partner was able to wriggle himself out from under the semi- to get back to the firetruck to call for emergency back-up. My father and the other 3 were still pinned under the cab of the truck with diesel fuel pooling up around them.
Needless to say, my dad survived. Everyone survived that night except for one woman. One of the women trapped under the semi- with my dad who asked him to hold her hand because she 'was scared'. He held her hand and told her everyone was doing their best to get them out from under that truck. He held her hand until they told him she had died.
Come to find out, the driver of the semi- had a suspended license which the company knew about but continued to let him drive, he had his girlfriend in the truck with him which is illegal and they also found narcotics in the truck. I don't know the specifics, but we sued Radio Shack and Tandy Trucking Company for damages and loss of whatever. Our family (my dad, my mom and myself) went through this shit for 5 years until a settlement was finally reached. A settlement with Radio Shack, a settlement with Tandy and a settlement with the county for his disability. Being 11/12/13 years old and having to go for depositions and explain to complete strangers the ways in which this accident has changed your relationship with you father is hard.
My dad is now out on permanent disability due to injuries obtained as well as mental health issues. Post-traumatic stress disorder, anxiety and depression are all REAL things. I've seen it, first hand. He's fine though. He has back problems which are flaring right now, but if you didn't know this story, you would think he was completely normal guy who doesn't work but somehow goes on (sometimes multiple) vacations every year and lives in a 3,000 sq ft home on 3 acres of land.
All of this happened at such a pivotal time in my life growing up that it MADE me grow up. There's a song that I always think of when I think of this story and around the anniversary of the accident - Tracy Lawrence: You Find Out Who Your Friends Are - and it's all SO very true. A lot of things changed once the settlements were over. A lot of people starting getting jealous and bitter. People started to hate. My mom and dad cut ties with those people soon after that. We had been through enough drama and enough shit to last us the rest of our lives, we didn't need more. Some family members still don't understand why we don't do things for other family members, like buy them a car because theirs aren't running or hand them $600 so that they can make rent for the month... you know what? This ain't the Salvation Army. We don't do hand-outs. Yeah, we go on vacations. Yeah, we live in a big house with lots of land. Yeah, my dad bought me my first car. Yeah, he bought me another one when that one died. And yeah, he bought me a THIRD one when the second one died. But guess what!? We've been to hell and back to be able to have these things. They still have bills! They still pay a mortgage. They still have two car payments, electric bills, water bills, phone bills and cable bills every month! We don't sit home all day and roll around in cash. Yeah, we're more 'well off' than anyone else in the family, but at what price?
T.I. said it best and I live by these words now - we also have them up on the refrigerator -
"If you ain't walked a mile in my shoes and you ain't lived a day in my life
You ain't survive the shit I done survived
You ain't had to deal with the shit I done had to deal with homeboy
You can't motherfuckin' judge me, partner.
In order to understand my train of thought
You'll have to put yourself in my position.
You can't expect me to think like you cause my life ain't like yours."
All I can say is Hugs to you and your family Jess!
ReplyDeleteI can't imagine what all that's been like for you and how it changed your life and the lives of your mom and dad. You're brave to lay it all out there. Great post.
ReplyDelete