It Was An Accident: Part 5 – Someone in a Big Truck

As I mentioned in my previous post, the events I will describe here took place about two weeks after the repairs on my vehicle were completed from the accident described in the previous post. I don’t believe the glue and paint had even finished drying yet.

I was heading south on Cloverdale Road and was stopped by a red light at Cox Creek Parkway. And for those of you not familiar with this area, I was not in a red light district. I was stopped by a red traffic light. There was no one in front of me so I was right at the intersection. When the light turned green I released my foot from the brake and was about to press the accelerator pedal. Suddenly a car rushed by in front of me from left to right. Some malicious, or least inattentive, driver had run a red light right in front of me. Or perhaps he really thought he was in a red light district and didn’t want anyone reporting back to his wife that he had actually stopped there.

Needless to say (but I will anyway), I slammed on my brakes instead of pressing the gas pedal. Then, déjà vu, BAM! I was rear-ended by a truck. I couldn’t believe it. All that fine body work by the dealership destroyed. Interestingly, I was not shaken up as much as with the previous read-ending, but when I got out of the car, I realized that the damage to my vehicle was much worse. And it was easy to see why. The man who hit me had a huge truck. And it sat on BIG wheels. In fact, his bumper was quite a bit higher than my bumper. Thus, his bumper actually hit my trunk, and it crumpled it big time. I guess I should be thankful though. Had the truck and the wheels been much bigger, he probably would have simply rolled over top of my car and crushed the whole thing…kind of like what you see at those monster truck rallies. If that had happened, I would most likely have been crushed right along with my car. I was also fortunate in that the man actually stayed at the scene rather than driving off like the man in the customized van did a few weeks before.

After the other driver and I made sure the other was okay, he said, “I thought you had started moving when the light turned green.”

I replied, “I did, but some guy ran the red light in front of me and I had to stop suddenly to keep from hitting him.” Hitting him! The thought angered me. That jerk had run the red light, causing me to be read-ended, and he just went on his merry way probably unaware of the damage he had caused. Of course, it wasn’t all his fault. The guy behind me was obviously not paying close enough attention. Had he been, he could have easily stopped before hitting me. Perhaps he was listening to Willie Nelson on his 8-track tape player a bit too loud.

But to the driver’s credit, he didn’t run off. He stayed right there until the police arrived…which didn’t take too long as a police officer just happened upon us shortly after the crash. He asked both of us to move our vehicles into the Big Star parking lot just a short distance down the road. I was sort of shocked that my car was drivable without the rear tires scraping something. Once we arrived in the parking lot, the officer took our statements. Afterwards I called my insurance agent, and I was for a second time on my not-so-merry way.

I immediately drove over to the dealership where I had just had the rear end repaired. The manager of the body shop just happened to be on break, so was standing outside leaning again the building with his arms and legs crossed and his sunglasses on. I parked and got out.

The manager, without moving a muscle, said in a slow southern drawl, “I just fixed that car a couple weeks ago.”

I replied, “I know, but I thought you could use some more business, so I decided to get someone else to tear it up.”

After looking it over, he became concerned that he could not repair the damage for less than the value of the car, which would mean my insurance would total it. However, after much calling around, he was able to find another rear end for an acceptable price. So, once again, he repaired my car. I felt fortunate as I really liked that car and didn’t want to have to replace it.

Well, it all worked out, but as you have probably heard, “Bad things come in threes.” Would I be rear-ended yet again after these second repairs were complete? And would this third one be even worse than the second one which was worse than the first one? Perhaps I would be hit by a semi-truck that would crunch the rear end up through the back seat. Well, I knew it wouldn’t change anything worrying about it. So, I picked up my repaired car and drove it boldly over the streets and roads of America. And no, I was not rear-ended again…well, at least not for a few more years. More about that in my next post.