I
was in high school and just finishing the tenth grade.
Every day ended the same way. The last
class was dismissed, and a friend and I left our last class, and headed towards
our bus. I have long since forgotten the name of our driver, but somehow the
bus number still resonates in my mind – Bus #149.
In
those days the buses met us in front of the school. Our school had a singular
designation; Summerlin Institute. It was a public school, but had the honor of
bearing the name of it’s original founder; Jacob Summerlin.
As James and I advanced towards the bus,
the whole world seemed to slow down. Every movement of people and vehicles is
etched deeply in my brain. I think the wrinkles in my brain, representing the
memories of that day, must be deeper than most others. For just ahead of me, a
car careened towards the rear of the last bus in line. The small car bumped
against the right, inside tire of the school bus, and seemed to stop for a
moment. But for only a moment. Suddenly, the engine roared, and the car surged
forward, moving quickly towards James and I. I don't know where the focus or energy came from, but just prior to being "plowed under" I grabbed my friend by the sleeve, and pulled him away from the quickly accelerating vehicle. The old lady, and her passenger were a blur, as the car missed us by barely a foot. We had been the first students exposed to this danger, but would by no means be the last. I turned from the sight, as several students fell beneath the vehicle.
Immediately, my favorite teacher, Mrs.
Belflower, ran up the walkway, and witnessed the momentous event. She suggested
we get on our bus, and remove ourselves from the tragedy. We complied without
any objection.
It seems Mrs. F._____ had been dealing
with a husband with cancer, and was heading home, having just taken him to a
recurring doctor’s appointment. Perhaps she was experiencing anxiety or
depression. Perhaps she just couldn’t focus that day.
Somehow she lost control of her vehicle,
and after hitting the bus pressed on what she thought was the brake. It wasn’t the brake!
Thirteen students were injured that day.
There were heroics galore. One particular student had just enough time to push
two girls out of the path of the car. Unfortunately he had no time to save
himself. Ronnie fell beneath the car, and died at the scene. He was the only
fatality.
It’s funny how such events are imprinted
on our minds, and remain with us throughout life. So like a vapor, the frailty
of life.
Those of us who have been spared to live
out long. and fruitful lives should reflect occasionally. We are so blessed. We
are so fortunate. We have been granted a few more years to make His name known.
No comments:
Post a Comment