Another One Rides The Bus...And Almost Dies

Hours after writing the last post, I almost died...again.

I wrote the post at a library and then went to the bus terminal in Bellingham. Took the bus and got off in Everett for the next connection, waiting for an hour or so inbetween. Got on the bus to Wenatchee.

About a mile and a half before Leavenworth, our bus came around a corner and suddenly--BAM! My head was down for a nap and I didn't see what happened, but I felt the impact and heard it and felt the bus sway. The driver said something in a serious, panicked, but measured voice. We had hit a huge rock. There were 5 people on the bus, including the driver, who said, "I think it got the gas tank."

I had kept my head down, wondering if we were going to roll, but at that, I sat upright. Gas tank? We could all smell something. The driver said he couldn't use the brakes. He also didn't have a shoulder to pull off to the side. There was a terrible sound from underneath the bus and the driver was fighting to control the steering wheel.

Everyone was seated but I stood up. "Where is the gas tank?" I asked, knowing nothing about buses, "Is it in the front or the back?" The driver said it was in the front. So I remembered city buses have window exits toward the back and was going to go back to look for one when the bus started to slow down and he found a shoulder. As soon as it looked like we might be able to get out the regular door quickly enough, I grabbed my travel bag and said, "Everybody get OFF of the bus, NOW!" The driver agreed with me, adding, "Yeah, get as far away from the bus as you can."

Everyone was still seated when I was standing and all I could think about was my son, and I ran out the door and sprinted past the bus, to the back of the bus, and beyond. I looked behind me and saw no one else. I figured they must have gone the other way but didn't know. I was hoping they weren't just sitting there. I saw a truck go by and waved it down, asking them to call for help/police. At least 2 other people had cell phones but I didn't know if they had their phones on them if they ran out.

After about 15 minutes, the driver yelled at me to come back to the bus, and I saw the other passengers. He yelled there was no gas leak. Was he sure? He said he'd checked it out and the fuel line was intact. So I went back. Another woman spoke up and said the safest place was back on the bus, now that we knew there wasn't a gas problem.

We had been dragging a boulder underneath the bus. It bent the bumper and was stuck underneath, squarely in the center.

We got on the bus and the driver said he wanted to try to back off of it. We were able to back off. Then I turned around and asked a woman behind me, Ashley, to take photos of the rock with her cell phone. She did. She took one of the rock in front of the bus and then I asked her to take one of me next to the rock. I stook inbetween the bus and the rock and held up 9 fingers for "Nine Lives".

She showed me the photo and it came out and I watched her send it to me. For whatever reason, when I checked my email, the one of the rock came through, but not the one with me.

The police came and took our names. State Patrol. It took him and another guy to roll it to the side, and even that was difficult but not impossible to do.

Then I asked some questions. Had the driver seen the rock first? No. Had it rolled off the hill or was it there already? It was already there, centered perfectly in the middle of our side of the road. There had been a car ahead of us by about 3 minutes. The driver thought it odd they hadn't flashed lights or someone didn't flag it down ahead of us and surmised the rock had fallen after the car in front of us. We had also passed a car that was directly in front of us, and if we hadn't they may have all died from the impact.

"Were you having a pretty hard time with that steering wheel?" I asked. "Yes", said the driver, "I don't want to scare you guys, but we came this close to not making it." He said he impact had nearly jerked the wheel out of his hands and then it was extremely hard to hold onto. The rock was steering and even after we were freed of the rock, the steering was tighter. The driver said he hadn't been able to use the brakes and had had to allow the rock to bring us to a stop. He said if the rock had been slightly to the right or left, it would have hit an axle or tire, and we would have flipped right over. If we had hit one side, we would have been in the river, which was right next to the road, and on the other side, it was the mountain.

We all came very close to losing our lives.

There were zero injuries. I asked about the gas line for future reference. I didn't realize the tank was at the front, but that there is a line that runs to the back, where the engine is. So, I had run towards the back, which might not have been a good idea. He did say that diesel is difficult to explode.

A spare tire hanging down under the bus was what kept the rock from puncturing the gas tank. The bumper fell off, the frame was bent on the front of the bus, and the door wouldn't shut.

We took it the rest of the way to Wenatchee. "I need a drink" I think I said, and I don't think I was the first to say it. One of the guys on our bus was taking the bus to a rehab center and I remembered thinking, "Wow. Bad timing to go into rehab." Sure enough, he lasted only one day and was on the next bus I took. I said to him, "I thought about you, and thought, boy, if I was going into rehab, I don't know that I could do it after THAT."

I mean, ummmm... Can we do this NEXT week?!

I don't know how many times I've nearly died at this point. I think it's over the number 9. I'm a little concerned. For some crazy reason, I'm still here. By the grace of God.

On the way back from Wenatchee, there was a little boy, about 2 years old, dark-haired Mexican boy with curls in the back the way my son's hair curls up when it's longer. My imagination took off. I saw the same scene, and this time, the bus was on fire and I was saving this little boy, and in the process, die in the flames, leaving my son an orphan. Saving one little boy and losing my own son, and I wondered how his life would be without me, raised by my aunt's family, with only a memory of his mother.

I don't write about my son in this blog much anymore, or to him. I feel my writings to him, now, are to be private. The direction of my blog has changed to an account of my life, which maybe someday my son will want to have himself, and which may do some good for someone else as well.

How was the ride back? Great. I got back on the bus.

What I took from this was that I should have made sure everyone else was behind me, getting off the bus too. I just ran and didn't look behind. I DID tell everyone in the most commanding way to GET OFF THE BUS NOW, but then it was every man for himself. If there is a next time, I hope I will be the first to take action, but it would be nice to think I could be the last to leave.

I'll add the photo of the rock (the one without me) to this post when I have a chance. Proof!