Dripping black oil began to puddle around my feet as I stumbled out of my 2000 Ford Toyota 4Runner. The smell of burning metal and gasoline began to seep into the air. My entire right side was numb and I could barely feel my face. The strong metallic taste of blood began to fill my mouth, as I bent over to spit out the amount that had now pooled at the bottom. I struggled to remember how I got to this part of Interstate 270, when I started off on the East Side of Columbus. I slowly hobbled to the front of my car to survey the damage. Fighting to keep my footing, I noticed my hands were violently shaking. Never in my life had I flipped a car before, but during those rolls my heart skipped many beats as my SUV searched for steady ground before coming to a rest. Finally, stumbling to the front after grabbing ahold of the hanging bumper to stabilize my steps, I noticed the extreme amount of damage. My truck was totaled, no question. How could I put my life and those around me in jeopardy without so much as a second thought?
Earlier that night, I hopped out of the shower eager to go out and celebrate the end of another work week. After ironing the clothes I picked out earlier that day, putting on some cologne, and admiring myself in the mirror, I darted out the door and threw the car in reverse. Drinking was always on the agenda, but I had the motto that the more I drank, the better driver I became. I decided to make a quick stop at a bar before proceeding onto a nightclub for the night. I pulled into the parking lot approximately seven o’clock and immediately began to catch up with my friends that arrived earlier. Two hours later, I was still about two shots back, but I figured I would make up for that when I made it to the nightclub. Searching for an exit, I definitely knew I was feeling quite buzzed. My eyes shifted back and forth struggling to find a place to focus. I fidgeted in my pocket, recovering the set of keys that were deeply embedded in lint.
The car sputtered to a start and without looking in my rearview, I turned up the music and reversed out of the parking space, all in one motion. The details of how I arrived on interstate 270 still escape me to this day, but I do recollect the events right before the accident. I was singing along with my music when a silver BMW cut me off in an attempt to get off at the next exit. Normally, I may just yell profanities to myself, but after a couple drinks, I felt I needed to handle things slightly different. Pushing the gas, I accelerated and quickly passed her on the left. Then, just as quickly, I yanked the wheel hard to the right to cut her off. Unfortunately, the jerk that I had to make to compensate for the initial action was too much for my car to handle, or too much for me to handle. In an instant, my car was flipping end over end with me in it. After what seemed like an eternity, it violently hit the guard rail and came to an abrupt stop in the median. I realize I was in the wrong, but it affected me that no one came to my rescue after I scrambled out of the car.
The feeling of not being in control is one of the scariest feelings in the world. Second chances do not come along very often, but when they do many people do not take advantage of them. Some second chances provide an opportunity to wrong a right or seize a missed opportunity. However, people are given chance after chance and still end up with the same result. Consequently, second chances only make a difference after a realization has been reached. This realization may come from time removed from a situation, or an overwhelming feeling of guilt, regret, sadness, luck or hope.
After my accident, I felt extremely lucky to be alive and unharmed. I had always known that drinking and driving was wrong, but I needed to have that accident to realize the extent of the consequences. I could have easily killed myself, the driver of the BMW, and anyone in my path, all because of my selfishness and irresponsibility. I am blessed to be able to have this second chance to not only change my life, but to tell my story to anyone willing to listen. To quote the greatest basketball player ever, Michael Jordan, “It’s not how you start, but how you finish.” I intend to make my finish count.