At about 2 to 3 years old, I climbed up on my toy box by the window and somehow wrapped the curtain cord around my neck and stepped off... just as my mother walked in to see it and save my sorry ***.
What's the closest you've been to death?
- Thread starter Red Five
- Start date
Matamoros, Spring Break, 1989. Kilroy could very easily have been me. Luckily, I was too busy making out to agree to get in any trucks with Mexican voodoo human sacrificing drug gangs.
The weird thing about it was you could just feel this great evil in the air, despite the fact that I was hooked up for the first time with the one girl I had lusted after all through high school. My best buddy told me that night, long before we left Matamoros, and long before news of Kilroy's disappearance broke, that some guys tried to snatch his drunk *** and take him in an alley.
The weird thing about it was you could just feel this great evil in the air, despite the fact that I was hooked up for the first time with the one girl I had lusted after all through high school. My best buddy told me that night, long before we left Matamoros, and long before news of Kilroy's disappearance broke, that some guys tried to snatch his drunk *** and take him in an alley.
In a fight a guy got a knife into my leg. Had it been double edged like it should have been, my artery would have been toast, I die. I got to wake up to see them pulling it out.
A dude put a gun to my head and actually pulled the trigger. Dumbass obv. never cleaned it and it jammed on him. He got a pistol whipping that he may still be feeling after I tried to unload in his head but the damned thing was too jammed. Adrenaline took over, I guess. It seemed like seconds from hearing the hammer lock to standing against a wall with cops all over me and the dude laying there. I really should not have lived through that one.
A couple other close calls but nothing to the magnitude of these two. I am on borrowed time and I know it. I am not afraid of death and there is nothing I can do when it happens.
A dude put a gun to my head and actually pulled the trigger. Dumbass obv. never cleaned it and it jammed on him. He got a pistol whipping that he may still be feeling after I tried to unload in his head but the damned thing was too jammed. Adrenaline took over, I guess. It seemed like seconds from hearing the hammer lock to standing against a wall with cops all over me and the dude laying there. I really should not have lived through that one.
A couple other close calls but nothing to the magnitude of these two. I am on borrowed time and I know it. I am not afraid of death and there is nothing I can do when it happens.
On a drive from Fairbanks to Anchorage, I took the long route down the Richardson Highways to the Glenn Highway because the Parks was intermittently closed due to forest fires. It's a beautiful drive but the roads winds quite a bit and very little in the way of guard rails once you're on the Glenn. Some of the curves are pretty severe but they are marked with those yellow hazard signs and a speed "recommendation". Well, I was tooling along, make great time and I came up on one marked 35 MPH. I was doing about 80 so I slowed let off the gas thinking I'd just coast through the curve at maybe 60 or 65. About a quarter of the way into the curve I realize I'm going way, way too fast and the back end of the car is starting to come around. On dry pavement. I look down at the speedometer and I'm still doing 70. My brain is freaking out because I'm not sure if I should try and brake or just let the spin happen. All the while, I'm trying not to look over at the drop down the side of the mountain/hill I'm cruising around. I don't know how I managed it without panicking but I tapped the brakes, correct the into the spin and I came back around. I pulled over to the side of the road when I got a enough shoulder to do so and sat there for a few minutes while I stopped shaking.
I take those curve signs more seriously now on roads I have never driven before.
I take those curve signs more seriously now on roads I have never driven before.
5th grade May something 1988, I was at recess on a relatively hot day for late spring. I was wearing one of those longsleeve coca cola rugby shirts kids use to wear back in the day. Anyway my asthma started kicking in and I felt this overwhelming hot sensation coming over my entire body. It was as if my body was over heating or something.
Back then I had to go to the school clinic and ask the nurse in order to use my inhaler. So after asking permission from my teacher, I made my way towards the clinic weazing like I never had before the entire way. I finally get to the clinic where at this point I realize I'm in dire straits as I can hardly breathe and that over heating sensation I felt a few minutes before would be a welcome relief to the inferno my body was now feeling.
Longstory short, I remember crying out of fear as I desperately pumped my inhaler in vain. I vividly remember peeing in my pants as I gasped for air. Next thing I know I wake up a few days later in the hospital. It's funny, I don't know if this is a dream or if this actually happened, but I remember laying in my hospital bed listening to my mom crying with my best friend's mom while Dad was talking to my priest. I heard them distinctly, but couldn't open my eyes. That memory stays with me til this day at age 31.
Not even 6 months later another kid in my class had an asthma attack during basketball practice. His father was the coach and as a result witnessed his son die right in front of him. Even at a relatively young age I realized how blessed I was to be alive.
Back then I had to go to the school clinic and ask the nurse in order to use my inhaler. So after asking permission from my teacher, I made my way towards the clinic weazing like I never had before the entire way. I finally get to the clinic where at this point I realize I'm in dire straits as I can hardly breathe and that over heating sensation I felt a few minutes before would be a welcome relief to the inferno my body was now feeling.
Longstory short, I remember crying out of fear as I desperately pumped my inhaler in vain. I vividly remember peeing in my pants as I gasped for air. Next thing I know I wake up a few days later in the hospital. It's funny, I don't know if this is a dream or if this actually happened, but I remember laying in my hospital bed listening to my mom crying with my best friend's mom while Dad was talking to my priest. I heard them distinctly, but couldn't open my eyes. That memory stays with me til this day at age 31.
Not even 6 months later another kid in my class had an asthma attack during basketball practice. His father was the coach and as a result witnessed his son die right in front of him. Even at a relatively young age I realized how blessed I was to be alive.
I was cruising up I-95, going from Fr. Bragg to NYC to party with my cousin. I was riding a KZ1000, and making good time. I was going about 75 when I hit a rainstorm. I was wearing a helmet. All I could see was the running lights of a semi trailer on my right, and the same on my left.
I could barely make them out, and they are all I had to go by, no vision at all. I knew that if I went to the left too far, or the right, I was dead. Period.
Well, I slowed down gradually, and the lights went around me. I stopped at the next overpass, and got off the bike. When the rain let up, I went to a hotel, and parked it for the night. I was lucky to be alive.
I could barely make them out, and they are all I had to go by, no vision at all. I knew that if I went to the left too far, or the right, I was dead. Period.
Well, I slowed down gradually, and the lights went around me. I stopped at the next overpass, and got off the bike. When the rain let up, I went to a hotel, and parked it for the night. I was lucky to be alive.
Horn_Spanker
250+ Posts
During High School I was working of a farm. One day we plan on replacing the hoses on the boom arms of a liquid fertilizer trailer. Since it was raining, we back it into a long pole barn and extend the booms. As we work, the storm picks up and at some point the pole barn is struck by lightening. Last thing I remember is noticing the little blue arcs between my fingers and the boom arm. When I came to, I think my co-workers were more scared than I was.
washparkhorn
2,500+ Posts
When I was in 1st Grade, a substitute bus driver (the Vice Principal of the high school) decided to "Stop, Look, and Listen" for a train by stopping the bus on a train track.
When he saw the train barreling down on the school bus, he stalled the bus by popping the clutch out too quickly.
He turned around and yelled - "Everyone to the back of the bus" and then promptly hauled his *** out of the bus. The freight train hit the bus a few seconds later . . .
I don't remember the sound. I just remember quiet violent motion inside the bus and the look of fear on my brother's face.
After the motion stopped, we ambled out of the bus. Somehow, the bus stayed right side up. The front of the bus looked like its legs were taken out from underneath. The back of the bus had pivoted 270 degree - gouging deep grooves in the moist soil.
The injuries were minor - cuts, bruises, soft tissue strains . . . .
The memories are still fresh.
The Vice Principal driving the bus that day was nick-named "choo-choo Charlie" after that. The high school students teased him constantly - making the "choo-choo" sound after they passed him in the hallway. I have never again seen such an act of cowardice. I often wondered whether stepping out of that door and watching the train hit a bus full of kids he was entrusted to take care of ever haunted him.
When he saw the train barreling down on the school bus, he stalled the bus by popping the clutch out too quickly.
He turned around and yelled - "Everyone to the back of the bus" and then promptly hauled his *** out of the bus. The freight train hit the bus a few seconds later . . .
I don't remember the sound. I just remember quiet violent motion inside the bus and the look of fear on my brother's face.
After the motion stopped, we ambled out of the bus. Somehow, the bus stayed right side up. The front of the bus looked like its legs were taken out from underneath. The back of the bus had pivoted 270 degree - gouging deep grooves in the moist soil.
The injuries were minor - cuts, bruises, soft tissue strains . . . .
The memories are still fresh.
The Vice Principal driving the bus that day was nick-named "choo-choo Charlie" after that. The high school students teased him constantly - making the "choo-choo" sound after they passed him in the hallway. I have never again seen such an act of cowardice. I often wondered whether stepping out of that door and watching the train hit a bus full of kids he was entrusted to take care of ever haunted him.
washparkhorn
2,500+ Posts
Choo-Choo Charlie did keep his job. It was a small town and he was connected.
OrangeBlooded
500+ Posts
TheGallopinGoose
2,500+ Posts
-My heart rate dropped drastically just hours before I was supposed to be born; doctors had to perform an emergency c-section.
-almost drowning in a pool on July 4th when I was 7 or 8
-almost drowning in a pool on July 4th when I was 7 or 8
accuratehorn
10,000+ Posts
Growing up in Galveston, we learned to use the rip currents to take us out on our surfboards. They make a big circle, so never fight against the current, let it take you without fighting, and start swimming perpendicular to the direction it is taking you, i.e. parallel to the shore. Soon you will not be in the current, and the surf will tend to wash you towards shore, just by treading water. Never panic in the water-bad things can happen.
Having said that, I also went surfing in some hurricane surf, and it was one of the only times I got really scared-went out right next to the 57th street pier, and by the time I got out a ways, looked over and realized the current had already taken me to the next groin, a nasty barnacle covered wood-post tide control device that you don't want to get pounded up against. It was foggy and you couldn't see the shore, either, which was a bit spooky. I paddled in OK, catching the smallest wave possible in route.
But that's not the closest to death experience. That might be traveling in Mexico on a spring break trip, driving all night to get to Yucatan in a crummy old pickup truck. There was an unmarked railroad crossing, out in the middle of nowhere, and there was an embankment that blocked the view of the tracks.
We were barrelling down a deserted strech of rural road, saw the tracks, crossed them going 80, and in what seemed like an instant, saw the headlight of the train which crossed right behind us, also going at least 80. We didn't breathe or speak for about five miles.
Having said that, I also went surfing in some hurricane surf, and it was one of the only times I got really scared-went out right next to the 57th street pier, and by the time I got out a ways, looked over and realized the current had already taken me to the next groin, a nasty barnacle covered wood-post tide control device that you don't want to get pounded up against. It was foggy and you couldn't see the shore, either, which was a bit spooky. I paddled in OK, catching the smallest wave possible in route.
But that's not the closest to death experience. That might be traveling in Mexico on a spring break trip, driving all night to get to Yucatan in a crummy old pickup truck. There was an unmarked railroad crossing, out in the middle of nowhere, and there was an embankment that blocked the view of the tracks.
We were barrelling down a deserted strech of rural road, saw the tracks, crossed them going 80, and in what seemed like an instant, saw the headlight of the train which crossed right behind us, also going at least 80. We didn't breathe or speak for about five miles.
TornACL
250+ Posts
I was at lunch my junior year of high school, at Taco Bell.
I was eating the end of a bean burrito, the part where they ball up all the rest of the tortilla into that hard little end part.
For some reason, I just didn't chew it and it slipped down into my throat. And just like that, I was choking. You know how sometimes a piece of food goes down the wrong tube, and you can kind of drink it down? Well, no big deal, I thought I could do that. I took a mouthful of Sprite and then realized that nothing was happening. My throat was totally blocked and I was really choking.
I felt weakened by that overwhelming sick sensation of total terror. I spit my Sprite out all over the floor and my friends looked at me like I was crazy. I didn't even think to give the universal sign for choking. My friend sitting next to me finally asked, "are you choking?" I nodded my head.
By the time he got up and started trying to pull me up out of my seat, I was either in shock or had already lost a lot of air, because I couldn't or wouldn't stand up on my own. I think it was due more to shock and fear than anything else. My friend had to drag me up to my feet with a hard tug. Then, the first couple of heaves of the Heimlich manuever was unable to budge anything from my throat.
Right then, I remember thinking that this was how I was going to die. In a crappy fast food restaurant at 17 years old, out of nowhere, on a beautiful sunny spring day. I also had a vision of someone ringing the doorbell of my house and telling my mother that she had lost a second son.
Then, the next thrust sent my food flying across the table. I gasped for air and then sat down, huddled over the table, and I spent the next few minutes sucking down my drink in between violent coughing fits. People asked me if I was ok and I just said to leave me alone.
I actually didn't want to even tell anyone about what happened, ever. In fact, I went back to school for the afternoon as if nothing happened. The car ride back to campus was in total silence despite 4 guys riding together. Everyone says that life is precious and fragile, but that is a cliche that means nothing until you almost die* in the most trivial and ridiculous of ways.
I ended up having to come clean because I had some fluid on the lungs that required a doctor's visit, and, more importantly, my friend deserved recognition for saving my life.
* - I don't know how close I actually came to dying, but at the time, it felt pretty damn close.
I was eating the end of a bean burrito, the part where they ball up all the rest of the tortilla into that hard little end part.
For some reason, I just didn't chew it and it slipped down into my throat. And just like that, I was choking. You know how sometimes a piece of food goes down the wrong tube, and you can kind of drink it down? Well, no big deal, I thought I could do that. I took a mouthful of Sprite and then realized that nothing was happening. My throat was totally blocked and I was really choking.
I felt weakened by that overwhelming sick sensation of total terror. I spit my Sprite out all over the floor and my friends looked at me like I was crazy. I didn't even think to give the universal sign for choking. My friend sitting next to me finally asked, "are you choking?" I nodded my head.
By the time he got up and started trying to pull me up out of my seat, I was either in shock or had already lost a lot of air, because I couldn't or wouldn't stand up on my own. I think it was due more to shock and fear than anything else. My friend had to drag me up to my feet with a hard tug. Then, the first couple of heaves of the Heimlich manuever was unable to budge anything from my throat.
Right then, I remember thinking that this was how I was going to die. In a crappy fast food restaurant at 17 years old, out of nowhere, on a beautiful sunny spring day. I also had a vision of someone ringing the doorbell of my house and telling my mother that she had lost a second son.
Then, the next thrust sent my food flying across the table. I gasped for air and then sat down, huddled over the table, and I spent the next few minutes sucking down my drink in between violent coughing fits. People asked me if I was ok and I just said to leave me alone.
I actually didn't want to even tell anyone about what happened, ever. In fact, I went back to school for the afternoon as if nothing happened. The car ride back to campus was in total silence despite 4 guys riding together. Everyone says that life is precious and fragile, but that is a cliche that means nothing until you almost die* in the most trivial and ridiculous of ways.
I ended up having to come clean because I had some fluid on the lungs that required a doctor's visit, and, more importantly, my friend deserved recognition for saving my life.
* - I don't know how close I actually came to dying, but at the time, it felt pretty damn close.
Eating Club
250+ Posts
Either I'm fortunate or I'm due, but the closest to death I've been is eating at McDonald's or Taco Bell.
Art Vandelay
500+ Posts
I went on a canoe trip on the Devil's River in SW Texas a few years ago with about 10 buddies. There had been freak rainstorms before and during the trip, causing water levels to reach 40-year highs.
We didn't have a guide, but most of the guys on the trip had been going on the river for almost ten years and knew it well.
Anyway, there's a spot on the river called Dolan Falls (pictured below), which you're supposed to avoid at all costs. Unfortunately, nothing is marked on the river, including Dolan Falls. Well my canoe mate, who had been on the river a few times, knew this, and so he was on the lookout for it. This was only a couple of hours into the trip.
Just as he was saying "I think we're getting close to Dolan Falls," we see some dude off to our right standing on a rock and frantically waving at us.
Well, the water was moving so much faster than usual, by the time he realized we were approaching the falls, it was too late. We jumped out of the canoe and tried to drag it to the side, but it was useless. In a split second, we went over the falls holding onto the canoe. I went over ***-first with the canoe on top of me, and landed on the rocks, busting my tailbone. I was trapped under water for a second or two before being spit out. The rest of our group managed to recover our canoe and all our gear and pull us to the side.
Miraculously, my buddy suffered only bruises and scrapes, and I had the same plus a busted tailbone. But I shudder to think if I had hit one of those rocks with my head, knocking me unconscious or breaking my neck, etc., or if I had gotten pinned under the force of the water. Even a bad cut or broken bone would've been disasterous, as the Devil's River is in such a remote area.
This guy who was not in our group, but who had witnessed what happened to us, was pretty shook up. He told me that he thought for sure I had been killed, and said "I will be seeing that in my dreams tonight." And another canoe that had gone over the falls just before us (the people in it had bailed) was wrapped around a rock like a crushed beer can. Everyone else in our group managed to avoid the falls.
I was enormously thankful to be alive, but the trip only got worse from there, as I was in a great deal of pain and we still had a day and half to go.
It was a little like Deliverance, but set in the southwest, and without the pervert hillbillies chasing us.
We didn't have a guide, but most of the guys on the trip had been going on the river for almost ten years and knew it well.
Anyway, there's a spot on the river called Dolan Falls (pictured below), which you're supposed to avoid at all costs. Unfortunately, nothing is marked on the river, including Dolan Falls. Well my canoe mate, who had been on the river a few times, knew this, and so he was on the lookout for it. This was only a couple of hours into the trip.
Just as he was saying "I think we're getting close to Dolan Falls," we see some dude off to our right standing on a rock and frantically waving at us.
Well, the water was moving so much faster than usual, by the time he realized we were approaching the falls, it was too late. We jumped out of the canoe and tried to drag it to the side, but it was useless. In a split second, we went over the falls holding onto the canoe. I went over ***-first with the canoe on top of me, and landed on the rocks, busting my tailbone. I was trapped under water for a second or two before being spit out. The rest of our group managed to recover our canoe and all our gear and pull us to the side.
Miraculously, my buddy suffered only bruises and scrapes, and I had the same plus a busted tailbone. But I shudder to think if I had hit one of those rocks with my head, knocking me unconscious or breaking my neck, etc., or if I had gotten pinned under the force of the water. Even a bad cut or broken bone would've been disasterous, as the Devil's River is in such a remote area.
This guy who was not in our group, but who had witnessed what happened to us, was pretty shook up. He told me that he thought for sure I had been killed, and said "I will be seeing that in my dreams tonight." And another canoe that had gone over the falls just before us (the people in it had bailed) was wrapped around a rock like a crushed beer can. Everyone else in our group managed to avoid the falls.
I was enormously thankful to be alive, but the trip only got worse from there, as I was in a great deal of pain and we still had a day and half to go.
It was a little like Deliverance, but set in the southwest, and without the pervert hillbillies chasing us.
accuratehorn
10,000+ Posts
Well, Art, your story may not have had the hillbillies, but at least you weren't almost done in by a bean!
Knoxville-Horn
1,000+ Posts
The previous post made me remember something that happened to me a few years ago.
Big group of us went inner tubing in Townsend (Smoky Mountains). Of course we were drinking.
We got to this part where the river gets really deep. Someone had built a make-shift diving board. Along the side of it was a tree which you could climb and a rope swing. Theoretically, you were supposed to swing off the platform and into the water -- about 20 feet high.
I decided that it might be fun to take the rope to the top of the hill that ran behind the platform -- basically about a 60-ft drop. The hill ran up from the river at about a 45 degree angle. The rope was connected to a tree trunk that actually hovered above the river. I got about half-way up and decided that this might not be a good idea. One of my friends yells out, "I thought you were a brave Texan." He knew how to get to me.
I get to the top and look down. I begin to swing downwards incredibly fast. What I didn't account for was how much my momentum was as I approached the bottom. I held on as long as I could knowing that I was about to come up short of the river. I actually flew off the rope before I got to the river. The angle at which I was travelling made it so that I - literally - missed the jagged rocks at the bottom by centimeters. I know this because I actually felt my hair brush the rocks.
If I had let go even a couple of inches earlier I would have, at least, tore the back of my head off. At the most, I would have EASILY died. Easily. It wouldn't have been a question.
The next day I actually got nauseous thinking about it.
Big group of us went inner tubing in Townsend (Smoky Mountains). Of course we were drinking.
We got to this part where the river gets really deep. Someone had built a make-shift diving board. Along the side of it was a tree which you could climb and a rope swing. Theoretically, you were supposed to swing off the platform and into the water -- about 20 feet high.
I decided that it might be fun to take the rope to the top of the hill that ran behind the platform -- basically about a 60-ft drop. The hill ran up from the river at about a 45 degree angle. The rope was connected to a tree trunk that actually hovered above the river. I got about half-way up and decided that this might not be a good idea. One of my friends yells out, "I thought you were a brave Texan." He knew how to get to me.
I get to the top and look down. I begin to swing downwards incredibly fast. What I didn't account for was how much my momentum was as I approached the bottom. I held on as long as I could knowing that I was about to come up short of the river. I actually flew off the rope before I got to the river. The angle at which I was travelling made it so that I - literally - missed the jagged rocks at the bottom by centimeters. I know this because I actually felt my hair brush the rocks.
If I had let go even a couple of inches earlier I would have, at least, tore the back of my head off. At the most, I would have EASILY died. Easily. It wouldn't have been a question.
The next day I actually got nauseous thinking about it.
This one is easy for me. November 21, 2007, American flight 2325 from ORD to DFW. After sitting on the runway for an hour, we start moving. The plane is making a very loud and unusal sound - having flown hundreds of times, I knew something was wrong.
Immediately at take-off a series of loud booming noises started and we could not gain altitude. We were fish tailing in the sky, maybe a thousand feet over the ground. The noises didn't stop and all I could hear were a series of calls (Ding-Ding-Ding) between the cockpit and the flight attendants. The plane was very quiet. I was sitting next to a good buddy of mine..all I could say was "oh no"...and when the pilot started taking us over a less populated area I muttered "****". I managed to pick up my Treo and send my GF an email to tell her I loved her. I was confident the pilot was taking us down. After several minutes the pilot gained more control of the plane and announced that we were turning around and making an emergency landing at O'Hare. I started to feel better but as we landed I noticed O'Hare was shut down for us. No planes on the runway and our runway was lined with fire trucks and ambulances.
After landing, I asked the pilot how difficult the manuveur he made was on a scale of 1-10. He said at least a 7. I realized how bad it was when we were waiting for another plane and everyone around me was crying. The flight was full of kids going to visit families for Thanksgiving. I almost didn't get back on the next flight. Our flight attendant had champagne waiting for us (first class, hey frequent flying has a few perks) when we got on the next flight. She also told me she thought we were going to crash. Ugh.
When I came back to Chicago the next week (work assignment) everyone asked if I was on "the" flight to Dallas that made the news in Chicago....evidently our fiasco made the radio and the news in Chi-town. It turns out we blew an engine at take off and witnesses on the ground saw a series of flames coming from the right engine.
Sitting on a plane and looking at the ground getting closer to you when it is supposed to be getting further is the most helpless feeling I have ever known.
About a week later I got an email from American...apologizing for my "delay" and they decided to put 3,000 extra miles into my account. ********.
Immediately at take-off a series of loud booming noises started and we could not gain altitude. We were fish tailing in the sky, maybe a thousand feet over the ground. The noises didn't stop and all I could hear were a series of calls (Ding-Ding-Ding) between the cockpit and the flight attendants. The plane was very quiet. I was sitting next to a good buddy of mine..all I could say was "oh no"...and when the pilot started taking us over a less populated area I muttered "****". I managed to pick up my Treo and send my GF an email to tell her I loved her. I was confident the pilot was taking us down. After several minutes the pilot gained more control of the plane and announced that we were turning around and making an emergency landing at O'Hare. I started to feel better but as we landed I noticed O'Hare was shut down for us. No planes on the runway and our runway was lined with fire trucks and ambulances.
After landing, I asked the pilot how difficult the manuveur he made was on a scale of 1-10. He said at least a 7. I realized how bad it was when we were waiting for another plane and everyone around me was crying. The flight was full of kids going to visit families for Thanksgiving. I almost didn't get back on the next flight. Our flight attendant had champagne waiting for us (first class, hey frequent flying has a few perks) when we got on the next flight. She also told me she thought we were going to crash. Ugh.
When I came back to Chicago the next week (work assignment) everyone asked if I was on "the" flight to Dallas that made the news in Chicago....evidently our fiasco made the radio and the news in Chi-town. It turns out we blew an engine at take off and witnesses on the ground saw a series of flames coming from the right engine.
Sitting on a plane and looking at the ground getting closer to you when it is supposed to be getting further is the most helpless feeling I have ever known.
About a week later I got an email from American...apologizing for my "delay" and they decided to put 3,000 extra miles into my account. ********.
Sasquatch69
100+ Posts
In April 2006 I had to drive to Oklahoma City from Dallas to give a presentation at a convention. It was prime storm season, and I hit a little rain on the way up, but nothing too bad. I gave my presentation, visited the OKC bombing memorial, grabbed an early dinner and headed for home.
On the way home, it began to rain a little as I passed through the Arbuckles. Stopped for a while, but as I neared the state line the sky began to get REALLY black. I was caught in traffic crossing the Red River, and just as I got about halfway across it began to pour. It kept raining harder and harder, and then the wind started to pick up.
By the time I was passing the Texas Tourist Center, my car (my wife's old Neon) was skittering back and forth in the lane due to the strong winds, and the windows began to flex a little. At that point, LARGE pieces of debris (pieces of sheet metal, etc.) began blowing across I-35 around my car. People were bailing off the road left and right, driving into ditches, etc. I began to pray and tried to call my wife, but couldn't get a signal (probably a good thing, because she would have been hysterical if I had reached her). I really thought there was a pretty good chance I could meet my Maker at that point.
After a rock hit my passenger side window, cracking it, I got to a railroad overpass and stopped underneath (along with a bunch of other cars wedged every which way to try and use the concrete supports as a buffer). We sat there for what seemed like forever, until the wind and rain died down a bit. I limped into Gainesville and got off the highway to drive into town, only to discover roofs and other debris littered everywhere (and power out all over town). I finally made it home late that night.
Here's a news story about the damage that occurred all around me:The Link
On the way home, it began to rain a little as I passed through the Arbuckles. Stopped for a while, but as I neared the state line the sky began to get REALLY black. I was caught in traffic crossing the Red River, and just as I got about halfway across it began to pour. It kept raining harder and harder, and then the wind started to pick up.
By the time I was passing the Texas Tourist Center, my car (my wife's old Neon) was skittering back and forth in the lane due to the strong winds, and the windows began to flex a little. At that point, LARGE pieces of debris (pieces of sheet metal, etc.) began blowing across I-35 around my car. People were bailing off the road left and right, driving into ditches, etc. I began to pray and tried to call my wife, but couldn't get a signal (probably a good thing, because she would have been hysterical if I had reached her). I really thought there was a pretty good chance I could meet my Maker at that point.
After a rock hit my passenger side window, cracking it, I got to a railroad overpass and stopped underneath (along with a bunch of other cars wedged every which way to try and use the concrete supports as a buffer). We sat there for what seemed like forever, until the wind and rain died down a bit. I limped into Gainesville and got off the highway to drive into town, only to discover roofs and other debris littered everywhere (and power out all over town). I finally made it home late that night.
Here's a news story about the damage that occurred all around me:The Link
blueglasshorse
1,000+ Posts
Riding on the back of my college roommates motorcycle (***** style), he decides to punch it. I swear I almost fell off backwards in heavy fast moving traffic. I was unharmed but still believe I almost died that day.
Survived an attempted carjacking. Again I was unharmed but the police officers told me I was very fortunate.
Stray bullet misses me by about 2 inches when I was in HS. Inches from foot injury, Feet from death.
I think I have 6 lives left.
Survived an attempted carjacking. Again I was unharmed but the police officers told me I was very fortunate.
Stray bullet misses me by about 2 inches when I was in HS. Inches from foot injury, Feet from death.
I think I have 6 lives left.
PacSER
500+ Posts
Almost choked to death on a fireball. Dad slammed it out. Big dude took one swing into my back and the candy flew across the room.
I fell under the ice in a small pond. Don't remember a thing, blacked out almost instantly. Cousin pulled me out.
Sixth street encounter with a gun but it wasn't pointed at me.
The news today makes me feel like I was fortunate to escape death at the hands of my abuser as a child. You don't know relief until you fall asleep without fear for the first time at the age of five. He died of lung cancer.
I fell under the ice in a small pond. Don't remember a thing, blacked out almost instantly. Cousin pulled me out.
Sixth street encounter with a gun but it wasn't pointed at me.
The news today makes me feel like I was fortunate to escape death at the hands of my abuser as a child. You don't know relief until you fall asleep without fear for the first time at the age of five. He died of lung cancer.
notreally
1,000+ Posts
I fell asleep at the wheel driving from Austin to Dallas when I was about 21. It was right before an underpass and I veered to the left and hit one of those metal guardrails that gradually slope to ground level. That caused the car to jump, what I assume was pretty high. I flipped end over end for some time I guess and my car ended up upside down with the back leaning up against a pillar of the underpass.
I had on no seatbelt and the sunroof was open. Minor scratch on my head. Amazing. The cabin of the car was almost flat and even with the rest of the body. Really amazing.
I had on no seatbelt and the sunroof was open. Minor scratch on my head. Amazing. The cabin of the car was almost flat and even with the rest of the body. Really amazing.
I was an Instructor Pilot (USAF) in the front seat of a T-38 (student in the back seat, under the instrument hood) doing practice approaches. The student was flying, and we were on GCA final at Tinker AFB, OK. With zero warning the GCA controller's radio call went from "Nook 61, on course, on glide path, three miles from touchdown" to "NOOK 61, TRAFFIC 11 O"CLOCK, SOUTHEAST BOUND, SLOW-MOVING, CO-ALTITUDE!!" I looked just in time to see a Beech Bonanza coming straight at me from the haze layer just below me. (How he didn't see a glossy white T-38 just above the horizon with a bright landing light, is beyond me!) Without a word to the student I grabbed the stick, yanked back, and threw both throttles into full afterburner. According to Tinker GCA, the near-miss was less than 100 feet separation. (The Precision Radar Approach screen only covers a few hundred feet in altitude and azimuth.) It was some idiot who shouldn't have qualified for a private pilot's license - on a VFR cross-country, looked at a map, and figured "There's a perfect turn point - how could I miss seeing Tinker AFB!" To this day I firmly hope my afterburners scorched his paint.
Now you know why they say that "Flying is hours and hours of tedious bordeom punctuated by brief, fleeting moments of utter stark terror."
HornHuskerDad
Now you know why they say that "Flying is hours and hours of tedious bordeom punctuated by brief, fleeting moments of utter stark terror."
HornHuskerDad
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