Brush with Death in Z-24 Chevy Cavalier
Kirkland, New York: Long Insightful Story Below!!!
"Jaws of Life" (hydraulic cutting equipment) was set up.... extinguishers were strategically placed.... There was a smell of leaking gasoline"
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It was hellishly humid by midday on that September 9th, following
a torrential rain that swelled the Oriskany Creek to near overflow
conditions and made road surfaces treacherous with a thin coat
of water. I had planned on meeting a friend of mine in a city
about 20 miles away to help him look for a new car, then to do
a bit of shopping on my own. I overslept that morning and was
running late so I ignored the poor road conditions and headed
to the city at a normal speed. I can remember thinking to myself
along the way as the water beat against the undercarriage of
my car that I should slow down or I might get into an accident.
I did slow down a bit, but unfortunately not enough.
At about 11:30 am the fire horn sounded in the town of Clinton,
as it does at least once and as often as a half a dozen times
a day. The emergency 911 dispatcher reported a motor vehicle
accident on Austin Road, a steep, curving, sweeping roadway off
Lumbard Road in the southern end of Kirkland, New York. The dispatcher
reported that it was believed that there were no survivors.
After a rain, there are usually a number of motor vehicle accidents.
Motorists may be driving a bit too fast for conditions, as I
was that day. It's not uncommon for a car's tires to hit a slick
portion of the highway, suddenly sending the car and driver into
a spin-out that often winds up with nothing more serious then
property damage.
But on September 9th , I wasn't so lucky. This emergency call
became a life-and-death situation, one requiring not only rapid
deployment of manpower and equipment, but also a level of expertise
that comes with experience, training and 100% commitment.
My 1984 Z-24 Chevy Cavalier flew sideways off the downhill side
of Austin Road and slammed into a huge ash tree splitting its
trunk, as well as my car, in two.
The impact sent pieces of metal sheared from my car high into a pine tree, and cut the vehicle in half, wrapping sections around the tree that it struck. The trunk of the ash tree was protruding from the debris just behind the driver's seat missing my skull by mere centimeters. I was trapped inside the claustrophobic one-foot by one-foot portion of the twisted hulk that had not collapsed on itself. Alone, ensnared in a space no larger than a child's toy box that was quickly filling with cold water and the smell of gasoline and blood, I fought my fear, struggling to maintain consciousness, barely clinging to life.
Even if I had been coherent enough to call 911 on my cell
phone I would not have been able to reach it. My driver's seat
had been dislodged and shifted onto my center console concealing
my lifeline beneath it.
The first men to find my car were Donald Brown and his son. The
men didn't usually drive down Austin Road but due to the rain
that day they had taken a van full of tools to help pump out
some of the flooded cellars of the surrounding homes. Because
the van was so high up the Browns were able to see the wreckage
of my car from the road as they passed by, had they not I am
certain that I would not be telling this story today. Neither
man paused to consider his own safety, let alone that they may
know the driver trapped in the wreckage. Only after using the
equipment from their van to break out the windshield, which was
forcing the steering wheel down onto my chest, did they recognize
my blue face inside. Both men stayed with me in the pouring rain
until I began breathing again, they were able to get the attention
of a resident on Austin Road and where sure that she had called
911 and that an ambulance was on its way.
Clinton firefighters responded to the emergency call minutes
after it was dispatched. All left their families and friends
knowing that they would compromise their safety, and possibly
their lives to save a stranger. Without a second thought they
scrambled down the steep embankment to secure steel cables to
the car so it wouldn't slide further into the now overflowing
ravine.
The car, itself, looked like a beer can after it has been crushed
with a foot. None of the firefighters were certain how many people
were in the car or if any of them had survived.
Clearly, it was a scene of absolute devastation and the first
reaction by many was: "No one could survive an impact and
mangling like this one." Residents on Austin Road who had
called 911 after being flagged down by Don Brown, stood on the
side of the road. Two women were unashamedly crying. One took
deep breaths between her sobs.
The firefighters methodically went about their jobs. "Jaws
of Life" (hydraulic cutting equipment) was set up, tie lines
were secured, extinguishers were strategically placed in the
event the hot engine block ignited. There was a smell of leaking
gasoline.
It was hot and sticky and everyone was sweating profusely under
his or her heavy fire equipment. I however was beginning to shiver
with cold as my body slipped further into shock. I still wake
up some nights in a cold sweat with the sound of tearing metal
resonating in my ears. I remember the nauseating realization
that I was going to die.
I showed no sign of life, but then I heard one firefighter yell:
"She's alive. She's alive. Let's get her out." I don't
know if he actually saw signs of life or if he was just willing
it to be so but that man saved my life. With newfound energy
the firemen began the tediously difficult and dangerous task
of extricating me from the rubble. I was trapped, completely
immobilized, inside the front section of the twisted wreckage
that was wrapped around the tree. I was bleeding, I was in shock
and immense pain, but I was alive. I myself struggled with what
little energy I had to get free. My mind numb from the trauma
of the accident, I lacked any comprehensive thought at that point.
I remember being convinced that they thought that I was dead
and were taking too long to get me free. I thought that the only
thing standing in the way of my release was the gas petal holding
down my ankle. In reality the gas petal wasn't even touching
my ankle, it was the fragments of bone and the searing pain from
each of the two places that the tibia had been broken that created
the illusion of captivity in my mind.
The next hour and a half was like a nightmare in slow motion.
Firefighters had to cut away the entire car. I was wedged in
the driver's seat under the steering wheel and dashboard, struggling
for each breath.
The rescue team worked quickly to cut away the roof and the driver's
side panels and the windshield frame and trunk hood.
Suddenly, my blond head fell onto the shoulder of a Clinton firefighter,
who cradled me and spoke softly and gently assuring me that I
was not going to die as his colleagues continued to cut away
the metal that imprisoned my legs. An oxygen mask was placed
over my face I pushed it away feeling suffocated screaming that
I couldn't breathe. The minutes ticked away. Now that I look
back on the events of that day I see how textbook my reactions
were. I remember being told in my own EMT class only a year earlier
that many victims will fight an oxygen mask for fear that it
will restrict their breathing further. At the time I couldn't
comprehend this reaction. It seemed ludicrous to me for a suffocating
person to refuse oxygen, now I understand. Nothing makes sense
to you when your body is so over come by pain and fear. All of
my energy was so concentrated on maintaining the simple acts
of life that I had taken for granted for the past 18 years, and
the thoughts that I would never see my loved ones again, that
I was unable to even respond to my own name.
Nearly two hours after the emergency call was made, I was freed,
carefully slid onto a backboard, placed in a special carrier,
and carted up the slope to a waiting COCVAC ambulance.
I was screaming in pain as the paramedics cut my clothes away
from my broken body. I fought them as they gave me several IV's;
at that point I was sure that if I had to endure any more pain
I would surely die. As we approached the hospital the morphine
began to take effect. I have vague memories of the barrage of
tests and x-rays that I was subjected to as well as what seemed
like an endless flow of well-wishers, family and friends. -Shannon
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Comments from viewers:
Eddie 12/15/06- Hi, I just wanted to comment on the accident taking place in Clinton, New York.
I myself life in Clinton...and I'm familiar with that dreaded fire siren that goes off in town. The roads around here can get wicked bad when there's rain...it's really easy to wrap your car around a tree. Some of my friends have hit things but none as bad as this. I just hope none of them ever do. I like to speed but if it's dangerous, don't drive like an idiot. Thanks, love the site.
John 11/23/07 This is the best story on your web site!!!! Incredible Survival story Shannon!!!!
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