I used to brag about how it’s been more than twenty years since I was in a car crash and that the three accidents I have been involved in had all occurred at speeds of less than 30 miles per hour. Now one of those statements is no longer true.
Tuesday night I was the middle car in a three-car wreck.
The short version: drizzling; three lanes of bumper-to-bumper stop-and-go traffic heading north at 30 mph or less; driver in front of me hit their brakes, I hit mine, driver behind me didn’t; it happened fast enough that I had nowhere to go to avoid being hit but slow enough that I had a second to brace myself; he sort of knocked me forward, which means I was almost stopped when he hit me; I might have hit the car in front of me but there is no damage to the front of my car and that night I saw no damage on her car either.
A few ironies: all of this happened as we were driving past a police car stopped in the shoulder dealing with an earlier crash so the police didn’t have to be called; another accident happened next to us while we were exchanging information; the drivers in the other cars in my accident are ages 20 and 19, which means neither of them were even born the last time I had a traffic accident.
Some good news: nobody was injured, no air bags deployed in our cars and the damage to my car mostly involves broken plastic parts and a dented trunk lid.
Some bad news: I’m even more paranoid about my daily commute. In a post a few weeks ago I mentioned that I had witnessed two serious accidents this year from only a few car lengths back. I said I planned to not obey the law of averages. Apparently I obeyed that law after all. Hopefully this is the only time.