God is provident. I came within a gnat’s eyelash of probably being killed tonight by a drunk driver.
I was driving down the road to my house–for Ben, I was on Bob Wade Lane, the last road before you turn into my subdivision–when I noticed that this sports car wanted to pass me. I edged over to the white line as we crested a hill, signaling that he should pass.
He began his pass, and I don’t think he ever got his right-side tires over the center line. About the time that his rear door was abreast of my truck, he began to move back into my lane. By the time he cleared my front end, he was back in my lane.
By that time, I was headed into the ditch. This is no nice, shallow shouldered ditch. It’s about four feet deep at the base and about seven feet wide. I got my truck straightened out just in time to get it to come back to the left before I hit a concrete power pole.
If I’m driving a car right now, or if I don’t react fast enough, well, I’m not posting this. I missed the power pole by a foot or less.
Thankfully, Todd was awake when I called his cell phone, and he rolled out in the Semi. He gets use out of it about five times a year, and as I said to him, “Well, dude, call it six times this year. Right now, I’m darn glad that you had this truck.”
All Todd could say was, “That was one hell of a ride you took.” Amazingly enough, there is no apparent damage to my truck.
I’ll probably go take photos of the ruts tomorrow morning. I had already realized that I was going to be stuck at home due to work rather than going to visit my parents … right now, I’m not real certain about driving even to work. The thought just makes me shake.
I am now going to try not to throw up for the rest of the night.