I wish I could make the claim the day of November 21, 2010, started out ordinarily enough. Well, I guess it did at first. I got up, did my devotions, ate a quick breakfast (probably a Pop-Tart), and went down to the lobby to wait for the guys to show up in Bertha Sophia. For the record, Bertha Sophia was a gigantic maroon fifteen passenger van that looked like it was a candidate for spare parts on
Junkyard Wars (man, I miss that show). As usual, the guys were late. Normal morning so far. We girls piled in, and I noticed something was weird already.
"Where's Thomas?" It wasn't his week to travel with the Northern Lights, so where was he? Yes, Seth and Betsey were gone too, but it was their week.
Oh, something about him pet-sitting for a staff member. We were going to go pick him up. Great, more delays. I hated being delayed. I just wanted to get to church and spend time with my adorable two and three year olds in Sunday school, listen to some awesome preaching, eat some great non-campus food, shop at Wal-Mart, and be back to campus early because we had an afternoon service. Maybe I'd have a sub request waiting for me even. I could really use some work hours.
We finally found Thomas, and he climbed in the van into the back row with Sharee. I was in the second to back row with Heather. In front of me was Amanda, Chris, and Becca. In front of them was Katie, Shannon, and Stephen. Brendon was driving, and Abi was in the passenger seat.
Three years later, and I still remember where we all sat.
The roads had the lightest dusting of snow on them, so we elected to drive down Holmes Junction instead of County L. I already was hating the fact we had to use Bertha this week because she was so cold. I hoped this would be our last trip ever in her and we could use the white van Ernestine from that moment on.
As we drove down the curves of Holmes Junction, my extension team (a group of college students who goes to minister at a local church together) began praying as we always did on our hour long trip to Marinette. I think all of us prayed for safety among all our other things because we knew we needed it. You always do in winter at Northland. Or anytime. Especially with all the deer on the roads.
Finally, we made it off Holmes Junction onto the highway and could breathe a sigh of relief. The road was straight and wide, and deer didn't cross nearly as often here. The roads still had a bit of snow here, but, hey, it was November in northern Wisconsin. What did you expect?
We had just passed where County L intersects the highway when our van began to fishtail. I remember panicking because there was an ambulance coming the other way, and I began to wonder what the penalties were for hitting an ambulance. I never got to find out because almost before I could complete that thought, the van swung the other way, and we were facing the ditch.
Great, we're going to drive straight into the ditch, I thought. I mean, that would be unpleasant, but at least we could get it towed out.
Even before
that thought could be completed, though, I found myself sideways and then upside down.
"Oh my word! Oh my word! Oh my word!" I screamed. I thought I was going to die. Or all of us were going to die. Or some of us were going to die.
It felt like we rolled twice, but they say it was only once. Next thing I knew, the van was sitting upright on the side of the road. I paused for a moment and blinked. I can't remember what I noticed first: Amanda in pain, the fact my purse was missing, or the fact Sharee had been thrown to somewhere between the second and third rows because she hadn't been wearing her seat belt, despite the fact we'd been reminded to.
I chose to worry about my missing purse first.
Meanwhile, Sharee was asking, "Where's Thomas? Where's Thomas?" not realizing, she'd been the one that had been thrown.
Sharee finally got sorted out about what had happened.
Thomas reminded me to calm down and that our lives were more important than my purse and the alien registration card inside it (Forget the fact I'm in America, I still didn't want to lose that card.).
I finally found my purse and called my parents to let them know what had happened so they could tell my church back at home in southeast Wisconsin. I assured them I was fine and that everyone was alive. And also that I hadn't brought my computer that day, so it was fine too (like I said, priorities--mine need straightening).
In my defense, Heather was worried about the copy of
Paradise Lost she'd been reading because it belonged to someone else. I probably was staring at it for a good several minutes before I made a connection between Heather's "Where's my book?" and the paperback I was mindlessly staring at.
By this time, the drivers of the ambulance, whose names were Todd and Lisa, had come over to help us. Eventually, we were told to get out of the van. I remember just kind of wandering around outside of it for who knows how long. I took a picture but forgot to properly save it to my phone (Hence, the lack of pictures in this post). I remember two hunters (It was deer season) emerging from the woods to ask if we needed help but leaving not too long afterwards.
We were told to go wait inside the police car or the ambulance, but I didn't at first. I just kept standing and walking around, not even really feeling the cold. I knew I was cold, but at the same time I didn't.
"So we're not going to get to go to church today?" Sharee asked.
No, we weren't.
She was disappointed because she was so excited about teaching children's church.
At least she had her priorities straight.
Finally, we girls all got in the back of the ambulance and sat there for a few minutes while we waited for the security van to come pick us up. Only once we were inside that ambulance getting warm did I realize how cold I'd let myself get.
"Shannon, Shannon," Stephen called, his normal energetic self, rushing up to the ambulance to talk with his pregnant wife. He held up a seat belt and buckle, "Momento. Momento."
The security vans picked us up across the street from the accident site. By this time, the tow truck had already started hauling the van back to campus. The ambulance had determined none of us needed to go to the hospital.
As we pulled away, my cellphone went off, playing "Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy."
"Someone's ready for Christmas early," the security guard joked.
"It's that year round," I replied as I responded to a text. The van had arrived back on campus. Since the name of our church was printed on the van, people were now worried about us.
Back on campus, we were all immediately sent to the nurse's station to be checked out. Shannon was told to go to the hospital immediately to get the baby checked out. Amanda was also sent to get her neck looked at. Sharee ended up going later that day. Did Katie end up going too? I don't remember.
I remember going in and telling the nurse my right shoulder hurt. I was told to ice it for the rest of the day and come back if it felt worse.
The next day, I was in so much pain, I'm surprised I survived classes. I even sneaked behind the maintenance shed to go cut off a seat belt buckle for myself. My boss caught me doing it and asked if I'd been "on that crazy ride." I told him I had. Everyone was amazed we were alive and not seriously injured.
I ended up back in the nurse's station later that day, saying that I thought I needed to go to Iron Mountain to get checked out. For someone who hates doctors, that was a huge admission.
I would be going with my friend Becca that night, but first I had to attend the required Thanksgiving banquet. I remember nothing of that night other than sitting across from my friend Hillary, occasionally gripping the table and breathing deeply in pain. Ibuprofen and Tylenol were not cutting it. I can't remember a single skit or slideshow from that night or a single thing I ate. All I remember is pain and being so blessed that someone else I was sitting near would be able to take my work shift since I felt I wouldn't make it back from the hospital in time.
I was right. And I probably shouldn't have been at work that night anyway, considering how much pain I was in.
A staff member drove Becca and me to
Don't Come Here Dickinson County Hospital, where my muscles were X-rayed (What in the world?), and I was given a prescription for thirty Vicodin.
After struggles with Walgreens accepting my insurance, I finally just payed for the precious pills out of pocket and gratefully took one that night. Man, that stuff is wonderful. And by that, I mean, only when you are supposed to be taking it for real medical problems.
In the end, our injuries really weren't that bad. Most of us just had cuts and bruises. I still experience occasional shoulder pain, but it's nothing popping an ibuprofen won't fix. Those of us who went to the hospital all seem to have recovered just fine with no lasting effects. And speaking of no lasting effects, several months later, Stephen and Shannon gave birth to a healthy baby girl who is absolutely adorable.
So, looking back three years later, what did I learn most that day? I learned how extremely grateful I am to be alive. I could have died that day. Any of us could have. But we were kept alive because there is a plan for each and every one of us. We don't know it yet, but even though Bertha Sophia's ministry for Twin City was done, ours was not. And our ministry will not be done until our time on earth has passed.
.svg/50px-Flag_of_Peru_(state).svg.png)
