It was just like any other typical October 3rd evening. The sky had quickly darkened
to the night shade that fall usually brings this time of year. By 8pm these days, it
quickly turns to night with each day passing a few minutes earlier than the day
before. Kris an I had just spent the last few hours at a pizza party with our nieces for
one of their birthday parties. We were leaving Fowlerville and I stopped at the Shell
gas station to top the Linclon LS off as I usually do before the 70 mile ride.
I couldn't help but notice how the car shined bight under the halogen lights reflecting
the silver metallic parchment in her paint with two clear coats on top. It had been
almost 2 years now since we had picked her up from the dealer and I remembered the
dark red LS the salesman tried to push on us. “What a schlep!”, I thought to myself,
I’d always preferred the lighter color vehicles with the 80 or so miles I rack up on a
vehicle daily. The darker cars tended to attract the dirt like a Swiffer broom, and I
must have told the shyster twelve times that I need a light color to drag back and
forth through the ghettos of Detroit. I would finally end up with this fine silver one
after what seemed like hours of argument and contemplation. It was the only silver
2002 left in the whole state of Michigan. They would have to flat bed it over 140
miles in order for me to take a peek and even consider buying it. It was our second
LS and we had just “early birded” the first one after only 18 months. The car
companies are finding that by “early birding” certain leases, they can control sales,
costs and the production of certain vehicles. This is a tactic all the car companies
seem to be using these days, it’s quite common. In the end, the consumer wins by
getting out of a locked lease early, plus it usually results in a lower vehicle payment.
In the end I was happy with this silver ride, it was quiet, smooth, safe and as
comfortable as a pair of my old leather Docksiders.
The gas-pump clicked full and after tearing my receipt from the gas pump, we were on
the raod headed for the freeway. As we winded done the eastbound I96 enterance
ramp, I couldn't help but remember the close call we had had on that ramp 10 months
prior. It was a cold icy January night and we were headed home after opening
Christmas gifts with Kris's family. While getting on the ramp to go home, the car hit
a patch of ice and slid toward the snow down the slope of the ramp. The advance trac
light came on the dash and like and angel sitting on my shoulder, the car
automatically used the power and brakes of all four wheels to correct the skid. The
silver LS was once again straightened out on the ramp and heading towards home. It
was a close call Kris and I will not soon forget.
After gassing up, we entered eastbound on the I96 Freeway, we passed a skunk that
laid dead on the shoulder of the road. The car quickly smelled and reeked of the
aroma that usually follows the sight of a black and white “squishy” road kill. I
reached over and quickly hit the high power micron filter button on the climate control
panel and the retched smell was gone as quick as it came. This sparked a
conversation between Kris and I about skunks. You know, as long as I have been in
my driving years, I have never seen a live skunk walking on the side of any road.
Sure I have seen them at the zoo and other places where animals are paraded and
showcased, put out on display for crowds of curious people to come and see, but I
have never seen one just out wandering around a freeway waiting to become road
kill. I had hit a few animals. Nothing major, a few birds back in high school and oh
yeh, I hit a rabbit once up north in 1993. I remember this incident so vividly because
I had smoked it while driving in my Dad’s Brand new 1993 Lincoln Mark Eight. The
car had only about five or six hundred miles on it and it was Easter weekend. I had
Jason Youngblood, (my college friend and roommate from CMU), and his little
brother Jerry and sister Leiha up for the weekend and we were in the car and our way
back to Benedetti Pines from Glens in Mio. The poor confused white tail never had a
chance, as it thud and skipped off the underbody of the car. It had been my first road
casualty as the birds had survived. I would stop and turn around, to see if it had
survived the shock at nearly sixty miles per hour on the dark county road called 604,
but there she lay, a mangled ball of rabbit fluff, steaming in the cold April night’s air.
The kids in the car had been horrified that we might have just ended the so called life
of the Easter Bunny. This had taken lots of candy and convincing on Jason and my
part, that the Easter Bunny still lived to see another day.
Winding down the expressway, I could now see the outlet mall off I-96, where M59
gets ready to dump into the express way and Kris and I are still discussing our road
kill scores and unknowingly, mine was about to increase to two. Just as we passed
the green glowing exit 133 sign, a flash of white and tan passed at the driver side
head light of the LS. For one split moment, I remember seeing the deer squarely
planted in front of the car with a sprinters form. As if it were running in an Olympic
hurdle event, legs stretched out in front and behind, almost clearing the car. Yes,
almost isn’t enough as most of us know, and in an instant, there was a loud roar of
impact, twisting metal and breaking plastic and glass.
The debris sparkled against the pitch dark sky illuminated from all the headlights
from behind me. Pieces and fragments of plastic and chrome glittered like confetti
and twinkled as it skipped off the roof of the LS and on to the car next to me for
nearly a half mile. The familiar advance-trac amber glowed on the dash with about
six other warning lights including airbag, check engine, low coolant and the antilock
brake light. I felt the car pull hard to the right from the force of impact and there was
my advance-trac angel again applying the brakes trying to control me. I saw the car
to my right quickly brake right, trying to give me the room I needed to recover, and to
avoid getting tangled in this mess. I tipped the wheel to the left trying to make sense
what had just happened. The Lincoln had held herself straight and I flicked the left
blinker on and felt the harsh rumble strips pass beneath me as we pulled onto to
median shoulder of the road.
The other cars slowed but nobody else had stopped or even been involved. The car
instantly smelled of antifreeze coolant and I could see the front of the car steam, like
that freshly squished rabbit, on that cold April night back in 1993. My field of view
out the front windshield was minimal and I could see the hood was folded in half
restricting my view to just a few inches out the top of the windshield. The windshield
glass had not been touched as the hood must have folded and refracted the deer off
the vehicle.
The LS limped as we crawled to a stop. The car was limping by design. It was only
running on a couple alternating cylinders. This is because it is able to run without
coolant and oil at slow speeds for short distances by alternating the firing order of a
couple of its cylinders. This limp mode allows the engine to continue running, yet
preventing the engine from reaching damaging temperatures. The dashboard and
message center was lit up like a Christmas tree with every imaginable warning light
displayed brightly. The computerized information system streamed like a stock
exchange ticker with text- Drivers headlamp out, Drivers side high beam out, Driver
side front turn signal out, Fog lamp out, check coolant system. I pressed the hazard
light switch on the steering column and they began to blink.
I was amazed at how quickly the traffic began to flow at normal speeds. The car
shook side to side with each car that roared past us. Kris kept saying, “Oh my God”
over and over, so I quickly grabbed the cell phone from her and pressed 9-1-1 on the
keypad. I remember that I kept reassuring Kris that “we’re OK, it’s going to be
OK”. I grabbed her by the arm and asked her if she was hurt or felt any pain
anywhere. She shook her head side to side but I could tell that she was still in a
frightened panic mode and I gave us as both couple seconds to digest what had just
happened. I could tell that the LS was totaled from what I could see, so my option of
limping her across heavy traffic and completely getting off the expressway was not
feasible. I would never be able to clear all three lanes without some real horse power,
besides, I did not want to chance making it partially across. I would have to stay put
and wait for help right from where we were now parked.
I pressed the send button on the cell phone and was immediately connected to a 911
dispatch respondent. I gave the description of the accident , vehicle and our location
as I was still trying to make sense out of what had just happened. Dispatch said that
it may be a while for a patrol car to respond as it was a busy night. I told the
dispatcher that we did not feel safe. Even that being said, we were deemed low
priority due to our non-injury status, even though we lay in the center median of
whizzing traffic that passed Kris’s window at blurring speeds. I looked at Kris after I
hung up with 911 and said we just hit a deer at 75 MPH plus, but we’re OK. She
stared blankly back at me, now calmer but still shaken.
After a few moments, we both called our parents to let them know what had just
happened. I told my Mom what had just happened and she started to cry. Kris called
her brother Jim after talking to her Dad and he said that he was on his way to pick us
up. I decided it was time to jump out of the car to survey the damaged. I could smell
the antifreeze more prevalent now and as each car passed I was hit with a wall of wind
and dust. The poor Lincoln crumpled like a tin can under the force of a cinder block.
The driver’s side front corner of the car was completely unrecognizable. I could not
believe that this was even the same car I just topped off at the gas station. The
impact hit high as the driver side headlight and grill was gone, the hood was folded up
and it appeared that everything on top of the engine had been sheared off when the
hood crumpled. The grill and front fascia were missing and the radiator was still
dribbling antifreeze coolant onto the ground. The bumper was still intact as were the
air bag sensors explaining why there hadn’t been an airbag deployment. I was
absolutely amazed that we felt no impact because the front of the LS was completely
destroyed.
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