Let's Go Do Something Fun

   Elder Worlton and I were having another fun night telling stories in our apartment in the small town of Aubrey, Texas. There were more tornado warnings in the area and we weren't ready for bed. So we filled our time dressing up like super heroes, pretending to smoke cigars (beef jerky sticks), and talk about everything under the sun.
   Part way through another one of my stories from the past, Elder Worlton's demeanor changed. He seemed as though he was racking his brain for a memory. Suddenly, he stopped me and blurted out, "I heard about this! The news said they were looking for you, that you were a hero!"
   I looked at him puzzled and said "What do you mean?"
   Elder Worlton proceeded to tell me more of the story that I was preparing to tell him. I couldn't believe that he actually knew what I was talking about.
   Allow me to explain...
   Sometime back in the latter part of 1999, before leaving to serve a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, I briefly dated a girl named Star. Yes that was her real name and not her "stage name" as some have jokingly suggested to me in the past. My long time girlfriend and I had broken up again and I was now in a pseudo relationship with this girl I had crushed on from years before.
   Star was a beautiful, petite, brunette that lived just half a block away from my home in the Avenues of Salt Lake. She was an active church goer, a very smart girl, and a kind friend to many. At the time, she lived in a small, basement apartment with her mom who worked night shifts.
   On occasion, Star would call me right before bed just to chat since she was all alone. Sometimes we'd meet up to watch a movie or hangout til she was tired enough to fall asleep. On one particular night, she called me up and said, "Let's go do something fun!"
   Living in Utah, being an active Christian preparing to serve a mission for the Lord, "Let's go do something fun" meant coming up with something creative that would fill the time and keep us out of trouble. We thought on it for a minute and then decided we'd drive to Wendover and hit the buffet.
   Wendover is a gambling town right on the western border of northern Utah. It's about a 2-hour drive from Salt Lake City. It has a small handful of casinos, some bright lights at night, and not much else. Not much interest for the two of us. But what it did have that we were interested in, was restaurants that stayed open all night. Better yet, the casinos had buffets that were affordable and weren't half bad to eat.
   So, rather than going to bed at around 11pm that evening, I pulled my covers back, got dressed, and met up with Star for our Wendover adventure.
   Our drive out there was rather uneventful. We talked about whatever and listened to music in her car. The night air was cold and the interstate was nearly empty. When we arrived in Wendover, we were disappointed to find that there wasn't as much to eat as we had once thought. But no matter, we instead had fun running around various casino parking lots and taking pictures in front of some of the casino lights. We didn't stay for long before we decided to head back home.
   Star was tired at this point and it was really getting late, so she asked me if I wouldn't mind driving us back. Of course this was fine with me as I loved to drive, so she hopped in the passenger seat and we headed back toward SLC.
   In no time at all, Star was fading into sleep and I was enjoying the quiet hum of the car's engine as I pondered upon life and exciting things to come. My body went into autopilot and my mind enjoyed the freedom of the night. And then suddenly, with no warning at all, something caught my eye.
   I-80 is separated with a large median between east and west travel. In the distance, on the oncoming side of the lanes, I watched as a UPS tractor trailer pulling 2 or 3 box trailers slid sideways across the road. The trailers swung around the rig with fierce momentum. Time slowed in my mind and I uttered something like, "oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!" The rig and it's trailers rolled over and skid past us violently down the road in the opposite direction.
   My utterances were loud enough to stir Star from her slumber as I pulled off the road quickly and came to a halt. She was a little groggy but became coherent soon enough. I told her she needed to find a way across the median with the car and I would run and see if the driver needed help.
   I exited the car quickly and ran across the median and down the road in the dark, cold night. The rig was covering the west-bound road from side to side. The rig was on it's side with the undercarriage facing oncoming traffic. The tires were rotating slightly as I scaled the undercarriage to reach the driver side door. When I opened the door I saw a man awkwardly hanging out the side of his seatbelt. He unlatched the belt and caught himself from falling into the passenger seat. He didn't appear to be injured but he was very shaken up. I helped him climb out of the cab and down to the ground.
   I began asking him what had happened. He indicated that there was black ice a ways back and there was nothing he could do. I asked for his radio in the truck. He said, "I've been trucking for over 20 years and I've never cared for those things." This was the "olden days" so most people didn't have cell phones. I was shocked that he didn't have some form of communication, I thought all truckers had at least a CB radio.
   My concern was mounting for any oncoming traffic. Because his rig had rolled, all the top lights were facing the other direction. His driving lights were pointed down into the ditch on one side of the road because his truck and trailers literally draped from end to end and off the edges. Travel on that interstate, especially at night with nobody else around is easily 80 mph. By the time anyone's headlights would see the truck on its side, it would be too late to stop.
   I had worked with big-rigs in the past having been an errand boy for a utility truck body company so I knew they had an emergency kit behind the seat. I climbed back into the rig and found the kit. It's a small plastic tool box with a few road triangles and a cheesy plastic flashlight like you might find at the dollar store. There weren't any road flares or anything else I recall as being of any use.
   By this time, Star had found her way across the Median and asked how she could help. I instructed her to drive 100 yards up the road, pull of the side a little bit, and face her lights towards oncoming traffic. I told her that if any cars were coming in the distance, she needed to honk her horn repeatedly and flash her lights rapidly to try and get the attention of the drivers. The hope was that people would see something unusual, perhaps perceive it as a signal for help, and at least slow down enough to realize what was going on.
   In the distance, we could see the first vehicle headed our way. Star took off down the road and I began to set up the little road triangles with reflective edges across the road. The driver of the rig was still in a daze and I watched nervously what was about to unfold.
   As the car drew closer into view, you could hear Star's horn honking feverishly with lights flashing in rhythm. You could almost picture her car bouncing with anxiety as she worked tirelessly to signal the warning. But the oncoming car wasn't slowing down. I realized they weren't going to stop so I improvised and did something stupid. I positioned myself in the middle of the road and began waving that little flashlight all over the place. Still it didn't slow as it sailed passed Star's parked car so with no time to spare, I shined the flashlight straight at my face. I can only imagine how surprising that must have been to the driver. Must have looked like a spooky camp fire ghost story getting under way right there in the middle of the interstate out in the middle of nowhere. The warm glow of red taillights appeared behind the car. For a brief moment I thought they were going to stop, but instead the car began spinning out of control and it was headed straight for me.
   I darted off the side of the road and into the ditch as fast as I could. I closed my eyes bracing for the impact of a car hitting the undercarriage of the rig. Tires screeched as the car caught traction just in time to send it sailing off the side of the road, down into the ditch, then bouncing high into the air before coming to a complete stop.
   The wheels were on the ground, a massive cloud of dust enveloped the car, and the headlights pierced through like a haunted movie scene in the woods. I remember the car was red and it was something like a Camaro or Thunderbird. The driver was a teenage girl and the passenger was her father. I was a little upset at first, angry that it took so much effort to slow them down. But the driver was crying hysterically and the father was attempting to calm her down while also trying to figure out what happened.
   He got out of the vehicle to talk with me. He explained that the whole thing was confusing and hard to see from the distance. Being alone with his daughter, they were reluctant to stop and help anyone in the middle of nowhere that late at night. He said when they saw my face in the flashlight it scared them enough to hit the brakes which was the same moment that they hit the black ice and began to spin.
   Everyone was a bit shaken, but we were all unharmed thus far so things seemed to be going ok, all things considered. The father from the red car asked if we had called anyone for help. We indicated that we had not and didn't have a radio or phone. By chance, he happened to have a cell phone sitting in his car. He went back to his vehicle to call 911 and get help coming. With his car in the ditch and headlights pointing upward, and with Star's car in the distance still flashing her lights and honking her horn, it was now a little more visible to oncoming traffic that something was going on.
   A few more cars could be seen approaching in the distance, but our anxiety was relieved when they all appeared to tap the brakes and slow down. Within a few minutes, cars began to stop and park in a line one by one in the slow lane. Things were starting to feel under control but everyone was asking questions.
   I walked up to the first car that had actually stopped and was waiting on the side of the road. I talked to the driver through the window and asked him what made him stop. He said he could see lights in the air and another car's lights flashing in his direction so he figured there had been some sort of accident. I explained to him what had happened and he seemed resigned to the hurry and wait situation he was now participating in. As I talked with him, other drivers rolled down their windows and leaned their head out to wave in a beckoning fashion. Everyone just wanted to know what had happened so I started making my way down the line, one vehicle at a time. I told them a short narrative and informed them that help was on the way.
   The last vehicle in the line-up thus far was a gasoline tanker. I had told my little song and dance to several other vehicles and was prepared to do the same for this guy. I climbed a couple of steps up onto the side of his truck. I was holding onto his window frame for balance and pressing my body close to his door. We had a moment of chit chat and then I proceeded to repeat my rehearsed narrative of information. But the driver of the truck appeared distracted. He kept glancing into the tall, vertical side mirror positioned just beyond my shoulder. You could see his body language start to excite when he started mumbling. "That guy's not stopping.. That guy's not stopping." His tone increased harshly, "That guy's not stopping, get off my truck! Get off my truck man!"
   I looked back in the direction of oncoming traffic and could see another Semi truck, single cab, pulling a long box trailer cruising at full speed and changing lanes to pass us all on the left.
   I leapt from the side of the gasoline rig and ran to get out of the way. The driver must have seen me running across the interstate because suddenly he tapped his brakes. The back of his trailer hit the black ice and swung wildly around from behind like a mighty whip. It all happened in slow motion as I dove off the edge of the road (again), into the median, tucked and covered waiting for an explosion.
   There was a loud, crashing eruption when the tail end of the trailer collided with the back end of the gasoline tanker. Unlike Hollywood however, there was no actual explosion. The truck came to a halt a few dozen yards down the road. He was jackknifed in the middle of the road. A hole had been torn into the top-outer portion of the rounded gasoline tanker and fuel was now spraying high into the air. The steady powerful stream of fuel splattered on the road creating a large pool of gas. It kind of reminded me of holding a garden hose in the summer time while you try and drink from the end.... except it was a lot more volume and it happened to be extremely flammable.
   I was relieved that there hadn't been an explosion, though I know that would spice the story up a bit. Nevertheless, the driver of the gasoline tanker was enraged. He jumped from his seat with fury and confronted the driver of the other rig. A slew of expletives were sewn together in a quilt of rage as he questioned why the driver had not slowed down. The driver of the offending rig was shaken, but remained remarkably calm. He said it just looked like people were pulled off on the side of the road for something but that it would be safe to pass in the other lane.
   The driver of the gasoline rig didn't have long to be angry, he harnessed his energy and began working quickly to isolate the fuel spill with absorbent barriers. The sprung leak was contained relatively quickly and things were once again feeling manageable.
   By this time, I was exhausted mentally. I had some dirt and debris on my knees and elbows from being in the median and the event was now completely visible for anyone approaching with this other truck and all his trailer lights positioned in the middle of the road. There were parking lights from the line of cars in the right lane and in the far distance you could finally see flashing siren lights from the rescue vehicles coming to help. Star walked up to me in the road and asked if I was ok. I muttered some sort of dismissive "I'm fine" but I was ready to go home.
   I walked back up to the front of the event to talk to the driver of the UPS truck who had started it all. I told him everything looked to be under control and help was fast approaching. He thanked me for the help and wished me well on my way. I met back up with Star and we loaded back into her little car. I can still see the scene as I took one last look at it all and just shook my head in disbelief.
   As far as I could tell, Star seemed pretty impressed with my involvement in what had happened. I remember she held my hand with one hand and gently caressed my skin with the delicate fingers of her other hand. I felt like a man. I felt like I had impressed my woman. I felt like I had a cool story to tell in the future. It was a pretty dang good night for a 19 year old boy.
   I've told that story to many friends over the years just like I was telling Elder Worlton that night in Aubrey, Texas. I've tried to be as true to the facts as best as I can recall. Obviously I think the hero stuff is silly. That's just media people trying to build hype for a story. I didn't do anything other than get in the way, cause a few crashes, and try to help, despite not knowing what to do. But it's a pretty cool feeling to be telling a wild story from the past and have someone actually know about the event. Someone who can validate the story and even become a part of it by mere association of circumstances.
   I credit that event as being my first exposure to an "emergency". Who would have known many years later I'd become an Emergency Manager. I often wonder why these wild, unplanned events unfold before our eyes when we're least expecting them. I suppose it's because, well, that's just life. In a place where everyone is on their own path in life, paths are bound to cross in very unplanned ways. But these supposed unplanned events can often play such a big role in the direction of our own journey.
   In my world of Emergency Management there's a saying I like that says, "In the first 2 hours of any emergency, 80% of your information, will be 100% wrong." I use that as a teaching tool helping my Incident Commanders learn to make decisions and take action. We don't always get it right, but you take what you're handed and you do the best you can. Adapt and overcome. There's one more quote I'll bore you with and it comes from Bruce Lee. He says, "Research your own experience. Absorb what is useful, reject what is useless, add what is essentially your own.
   Sometimes, in my twisted mind, life reminds me of the Plinko game from the Price is Right. God is the Bob Barker of the gameshow and he drops us into the Plinko board of this world. We bounce our way down the board clashing into little pegs and barriers until we end up at the bottom in whatever slot we land in based on how hard the barrier knocked us off our intended trajectory.
   I know life's not really a Plinko game. But life does throw us some surprises along the way and how we respond to them can have a real effect on our destination. Will they shape us? Will they stop us? Will they teach us something about our character? Will they define us? Will they be the start of something new that you never imagined before? The only way to know is to keep going.