July 17, 2010
I almost died today. In almost the same circumstances of a near death experience I had 32 years ago. In retrospect it was all in the timing of the thing; the fractional milli-seconds of what happened. In both instances there were literally milliseconds between me and eternity.
I was on my way to the marina from my house. Ordinarily I take a back road but this time turned on to the highway. Not usually taking this route, I missed my turnoff and had to double back. Doubling back meant crossing under the highway and taking the sideroad. Here in Texas most of the hi-ways have auxiliary one way roads that run parallel on both sides. They are called access roads because the design of the hi-way system is such that they lead on and off the hi-ways. When I reached the road to the marina I had to again cross under the hi-way and approach the stop sign on the access road on the other side. These are three way stops. I looked to the right, which is where the hi-way off ramp joins the access road. Nothing. Dead ahead of me on the other side of the road a tractor trailer approached his stop sign and slowed to a halt. I looked for a turn signal and seeing none assumed he was going to cross over. Since I had stopped at the intersection before him I took my foot off the brake and touched the accelerator, preparing to move across the intersection. Out of the corner of my eye I detected movement to my right. It was a tractor truck without the trailer, a bobtail in truckers lingo. By the time I turned my head to get a full view he was already past his stop sign and doing every-bit of 60 mph. I heard nothing. I barely had time to take my foot off the gas and was beginning to brake as he screamed past my front bumper. By the time I had my brake on he was almost passed me and on his way to kill someone else.
I think the reason I never heard him was that he had seen my car move forward and sensing an inevitable collision, had taken his foot off the accelerator. After he passed me I heard his engine accelerate. Had I not caught him out of the corner of my eye he surely would have broadsided me. Had I not caught the movement or had been momentarily distracted or had been a little more aggressive on the accelerator, I would have been dead 1/2 second later for surely he would have hit me full on. It would have been no different than being hit by a freight train.
That tractor had barreled off the hi-way, reached the stop sign and literally appeared out of nowhere from the second or two since I checked that direction for traffic and my pressing the accelerator to cross the intersection. Truly. At that moment I was 1/2 second from eternity.
On the way to the marina the thought had crossed my mind that “Hah! I bet he learned his lesson. There’s one trucker who won’t be running anymore stop signs.” but no. A driver as careless, insensitive and reckless as he is no doubt cursing me as he passed for scaring him. The only lesson he will learn until he gets tossed in jail for vehicular homicide will be self congratulatory for getting away with it.
I had a similiar experience 32 years ago. I was flying a crop duster in England. Crop dusting is all head out of the cockpit flying. In England the weather is often marginal, ok downright foggy, misty and visibility-hardly-any. One acclimates and adjusts accordingly. On this particular day I was following a road back to the home airstrip in Linconshire, at an altitude above the ground just low enough to keep the road in sight through the fog, I estimated about 300 ft. I had spent the day working off of an old disused airstrip called East Kirkby. They had squadrons of Lancasters there during WWII, but now it was little more than a strip of concrete and a few broken down quonset huts. Just southeast of East Kirkby is a large RAF airfield called Coningsby. The Battle of Britain flight is stationed there along with squadrons of jet fighter aircraft. Crossing the road I was following home that day( the A16) is Coningsby’s climb out corridor. Aircraft taking off out of Coningsby are supposed to remain in that corridor, to the exclusion of all other aircraft. Looking at it in three dimensions it would look like a square cone with the small end at the end of their runway and growing larger as it ascends outward. I was flying lower than usual, heading south in order to keep the road in sight, but at any rate I was 1000’ below the bottom of the climb-out cone. A few years earlier an F-4 Phantom flying out of Coningsby had collided with a crop duster. A squadron commander was flying the F-4. Both pilots were killed. I was passing directly under the cone when a dark shadow began filling up my side window. It grew larger very quickly and before I could react an F-4 roared past directly in front of my nose and close enough for me to recognize the unmistakable silhouette signature of the aircraft. Since I was just keeping the road in sight at 300’ I call that a near miss. He was well below the climb-out corridor. I wonder if he saw me? I hope he did. Not that either one of us would have been able to change the outcome had I been a few yards past my present position. Did he learn a lesson? Or did he eventually kill someone and get kicked out of the RAF, move to Texas and buy a truck?
I almost died today. In almost the same circumstances of a near death experience I had 32 years ago. In retrospect it was all in the timing of the thing; the fractional milli-seconds of what happened. In both instances there were literally milliseconds between me and eternity.
I was on my way to the marina from my house. Ordinarily I take a back road but this time turned on to the highway. Not usually taking this route, I missed my turnoff and had to double back. Doubling back meant crossing under the highway and taking the sideroad. Here in Texas most of the hi-ways have auxiliary one way roads that run parallel on both sides. They are called access roads because the design of the hi-way system is such that they lead on and off the hi-ways. When I reached the road to the marina I had to again cross under the hi-way and approach the stop sign on the access road on the other side. These are three way stops. I looked to the right, which is where the hi-way off ramp joins the access road. Nothing. Dead ahead of me on the other side of the road a tractor trailer approached his stop sign and slowed to a halt. I looked for a turn signal and seeing none assumed he was going to cross over. Since I had stopped at the intersection before him I took my foot off the brake and touched the accelerator, preparing to move across the intersection. Out of the corner of my eye I detected movement to my right. It was a tractor truck without the trailer, a bobtail in truckers lingo. By the time I turned my head to get a full view he was already past his stop sign and doing every-bit of 60 mph. I heard nothing. I barely had time to take my foot off the gas and was beginning to brake as he screamed past my front bumper. By the time I had my brake on he was almost passed me and on his way to kill someone else.
I think the reason I never heard him was that he had seen my car move forward and sensing an inevitable collision, had taken his foot off the accelerator. After he passed me I heard his engine accelerate. Had I not caught him out of the corner of my eye he surely would have broadsided me. Had I not caught the movement or had been momentarily distracted or had been a little more aggressive on the accelerator, I would have been dead 1/2 second later for surely he would have hit me full on. It would have been no different than being hit by a freight train.
That tractor had barreled off the hi-way, reached the stop sign and literally appeared out of nowhere from the second or two since I checked that direction for traffic and my pressing the accelerator to cross the intersection. Truly. At that moment I was 1/2 second from eternity.
On the way to the marina the thought had crossed my mind that “Hah! I bet he learned his lesson. There’s one trucker who won’t be running anymore stop signs.” but no. A driver as careless, insensitive and reckless as he is no doubt cursing me as he passed for scaring him. The only lesson he will learn until he gets tossed in jail for vehicular homicide will be self congratulatory for getting away with it.
I had a similiar experience 32 years ago. I was flying a crop duster in England. Crop dusting is all head out of the cockpit flying. In England the weather is often marginal, ok downright foggy, misty and visibility-hardly-any. One acclimates and adjusts accordingly. On this particular day I was following a road back to the home airstrip in Linconshire, at an altitude above the ground just low enough to keep the road in sight through the fog, I estimated about 300 ft. I had spent the day working off of an old disused airstrip called East Kirkby. They had squadrons of Lancasters there during WWII, but now it was little more than a strip of concrete and a few broken down quonset huts. Just southeast of East Kirkby is a large RAF airfield called Coningsby. The Battle of Britain flight is stationed there along with squadrons of jet fighter aircraft. Crossing the road I was following home that day( the A16) is Coningsby’s climb out corridor. Aircraft taking off out of Coningsby are supposed to remain in that corridor, to the exclusion of all other aircraft. Looking at it in three dimensions it would look like a square cone with the small end at the end of their runway and growing larger as it ascends outward. I was flying lower than usual, heading south in order to keep the road in sight, but at any rate I was 1000’ below the bottom of the climb-out cone. A few years earlier an F-4 Phantom flying out of Coningsby had collided with a crop duster. A squadron commander was flying the F-4. Both pilots were killed. I was passing directly under the cone when a dark shadow began filling up my side window. It grew larger very quickly and before I could react an F-4 roared past directly in front of my nose and close enough for me to recognize the unmistakable silhouette signature of the aircraft. Since I was just keeping the road in sight at 300’ I call that a near miss. He was well below the climb-out corridor. I wonder if he saw me? I hope he did. Not that either one of us would have been able to change the outcome had I been a few yards past my present position. Did he learn a lesson? Or did he eventually kill someone and get kicked out of the RAF, move to Texas and buy a truck?
