A is for Accidents

"Countless accidents happen all the time, but the accidents that you remember most are the ones that almost happen."

I’m not talking about those little ‘I stubbed my toe’ accidents. I am talking about bone breaking, skin peeling, and can’t sit down for a week kind of accidents. Our Marshalltown group had an accident happen ever so often that it still lingered on the tips of our tongues until the next accident came along. One of the biggest ones was when Nate “fell out of a tree” well at least that is what we told his mother.

It happened on just like any other night we were goofing around messing with cars and being completely idiotic as usual. Now before I go further I there is some things I must mention. First is that Nate’s mom didn’t care much for girls staying and hanging around too late over at her house. Even though there were 12 guys and 6 girls there is bound to be babies present sooner or later she thought… So the rule was girls out by midnight every time people stayed over.

So getting back to the story, Jeremy (who was one of the strangest people we hung out with) had to take Angela (someone who never really hung out with us, she just happened to be there that night) home. So he hoped in his pickup truck (remember we are in Iowa) with a topper on the back. Jeremy seemed to always get into trouble with that old rusty red truck with a $200 CD player built in. So he and Angela jumped inside and started up the truck. Sam (who we call Mr. Numb for entirely complementary reasons) and I hoped on the back and Nate hoped on the passenger’s side as the truck took off. Knowing Jeremy’s driving record and his unique peeling out style he likes to do as he drives away. Sam and I hopped off the back of the truck as Jeremy peels off only getting a face full of gravel in return; however Nate (the risk-taker) stayed on the side of the truck. I am not quite sure what was going on in his head at the time, either it was udder fear on what might happen if he does let go or the fact that Jeremy will soon realize he is still attached and slow down to where Nate can get off.

Jeremy either doesn’t notice Nate or like to push the risk-taker to his limits and doesn’t slow down. By the time this is all happening Jeremy gets to the end of the gravel driveway turns right and starts speeding up onto the highway towards Angela’s home. As the truck hits 20 miles per hour, and noticing Angela is not motioning to Jeremy that someone is still attached to the truck, Nate realizes he is fighting a loosing battle of chicken suddenly lets go flying face first onto the side of the road, making his body skid on top of the loose gravel. In slow motion I watch from the end of the driveway (thinking Nate would surely have let go before Jeremy goes on the highway) as Nate’s skin and bones body goes sailing off the truck, does a couple of skids on the gravel and then comes to a screeching halt face down in the dirt. Sam and I rush over to Nate turn him over and see udder fear, short, and ‘I can’t believe that just happened’ type of look on his face. He then snaps out of the shock by amerce pain coming from two spots of his body. Although his skinny frame is badly scrapped, only one area really looks bad. (Skip next paragraph for those of you with a week stomach).

There on Nate’s side I could see it. It looks just like any other part of the body at first, off white in color and organic look to it, but then I soon realize I am looking at something that I am not suppose to look at, his hip bone. The gravel has scrapped clean the layers of skin, fat, and other human material to show to everyone the framework of the body. There it was, a human bone, I have never seen a human bone still inside of a live body. It is quite different once you think about it. Have you ever see a bone that wasn’t through an x-ray, covered with skin, or on TV? Nate didn’t realize at first, and though it was just loose skin. But after he tried to brush the skin off and realize it was more than skin, he started to get a little light headed.

We picked Nate up brought him in the house and popped some pills in him to calm his nerves. A lot of things happen that night (see my blog Cops and Craziness). But the next morning Nate started complaining about his left wrist. He could barely move it and it hurt like nothing he ever felt before. Well through all this pain Nate knew there would be even more pain if his parents ever found out what had happened. And like so many other accidents we have, you put a band aid on it, and forget about it. Well for Nate it was going to need something a little bigger than a band-aid.

A week or so went bye and finally Nate had enough, and he told his dad (who was a doctor in the town) and found out through test that he had broken his wrist. His parents asked him how this all happened. And thinking back on all the times his parents yelled at him for doing crazy things, the words, “I feel out of a tree” came out like someone else spoke them and he happily agree with the voice. So a cast was put on and life went on as it usually does. Only about a year later, with the cast off did Nate’s parents finally learn of what actually happened that summer night in 1999.

Accidents are a part of life whether it is from car or throwing a piece of hard candy across the street and it winds up hitting some guy’s windshield and he comes chasing after you with a gun (another long story). Speaking of car accidents here is a list of car accidents in a summarized version. This is from 20 different people, over the course of 4 years being able to drive legally.

One.... The blat-mobile (see B is for bladding and basketball), which was Nate’s first car. It was an old poop colored station wagon, which once carried a thrown out toilet in for humorous purposes. It was in the ditch countless times, and had several internal problems with it that always kept Nate on the top of his toes when driving somewhere. It couldn’t drive very far, or for long periods of time, but hey it had a cool nickname and why get ride of a car that could carry a toilet and 6 other guys at the same time.

Two.... The white horse, my first car, it was a 1977 white Oldsmobile cutlass. This thing was a beast; it has a V8 engine and could go from 0 to 60 in 20 minutes. Since I was really one of the first people to get a car, it didn’t matter how bad it looked or sound I had a car and therefore I was cool. I became an instant hit/taxi driver. I hit my chain-linked fence in my back yard a couple of times just trying too squeezes into my parking spot with the other cars in the driveway.

Three.... The Mud-Mobile Grant’s (the old bald man) first car that was also poop colored. He was the oldest of the group and looked it. He had a full beard by age eight and I don’t think his voice ever changed, I think his first words was a pretty good Barry White impression. But by the time High school came around, he shaved his head and sported a goatee. There was two accidents involving his car one was when he got it stuck in my back yard one spring time and while trying to remove his car from the mud, everything became poop colored. The car, grant, and everyone who was helping were covered with mud from head to toe bye the time we got his car unstuck. The second accident was involved Sam and I and Justin (the loud one) we were in the back seat and grant was driving. Justin and I happen (by accident) to start tickling Sam, who was sitting in the middle. Well knowing what happens to Sam when someone tickles him he freaks out screaming at the top of his lungs and kicking and swinging his arms everywhere; doing anything he can to make the tickling stop. Well in all this commotion Sam kicks the storage unit that sits in the middle of the two front seats. Most times it is an armrest that opens up to hold maps and such. Well in the mud-mobile it was all-plastic and with Sam kicking it like he did, it shattered to a million pieces. Grant hearing this, looks back and sees the broken pieces of his cherished car right in front of Sam gets red with anger (which happens more often you might think). While driving with one hand he starts swinging into the back seat with his other. At this time he doesn’t care who he hits, or who broke it, all he cars about is beating the closet person to the scene, which just so happens to be good ol’ Sam. Justin and I are pressed against the windows while Sam is screaming out in pain knowing full well that no matter what he does, there will be pain. Oh sure he fights grant off the best he could, but Grant’s car wasn’t very big, and Sam knew he was toast. After about a mile or so of this Grant stops the car and as soon as that car is in park all doors open and bodies go flying out with red faced Grant chasing each one of us until his retribution was fulfilled.

Sure there were many more accidents and stories I could write about, but this blog just isn’t big enough. Thank you for all of those who participating in making these memories for me, we might not always keep in touch, but you will never be forgotten.

Thanks,
Kalgon