What Cannot Be Undone

There are things that cannot be undone, choices made in a moment that change lives, and a few weeks ago I was a witness to such an event, and came away wondering how the two people involved would or could go forward. How would they get through the rest of the day, and then, how would they get through the rest of their lives?

We all see the world through our own eyes, experiences and desires. It’s easy to say I’d never do that, but do we know what we’d do or how we’d act in a moment? I have gone over the scene in my head countless times, I wrote down every detail I could recall, I tried to find meaning and reason where there was none. I continue to wonder what act of fate or serendipity led me to that exact spot at that exact moment, but so far I don’t know.

It started with a young woman crossing the street, a driver not watching, moving ahead almost striking her. It could have ended there, but didn’t. They both stop, the pedestrian faces the driver and declares her right of way. Words I can’t hear are exchanged, and I watch from my car, no more than ten feet away; the driver had cut me off as I made the right turn that brought us all to that moment. As these things do, it feels much longer than it takes; I am sitting in my car listening to music, thinking about the day facing me. I am watching, and waiting because I can’t continue my turn until they both move. I am jolted back to the moment as the woman starts to reach the right side of the car, and the car lurches forward striking her and knocking her to the ground. I freeze, shocked, but it’s not over. The driver stops for a second or two, she doesn’t get out of the car, she moves forward, and I watch as she drives over the woman lying on the street, then drives away.*

Pandemonium ensues. I pull over and get out of my car. Two men go running after the driver to get photos of her license plate. It seems to take forever but the police and an ambulance finally arrive. The woman lies on the ground asking people to get her phone and call her mother, other than that she is quiet; everything is quiet on one of the busiest corners of Philadelphia. I am shaking. My mind replaying the past few minutes over and over, how did things escalate so quickly? This wasn’t an accident. It all seemed deliberate as if you and I were having a heated argument and I shoved you but instead of shoving you with my hands I used a 3,000 pound, motor driven weapon.

I can’t imagine the pain of the victim. Her life will never be the same; the weight of the vehicle broke her hip and fractured her pelvis. Her recovery will be slow and painful, and may never be complete. The driver’s life was also changed forever in that moment. She will always have committed this inhuman act of violence. One of the men at the scene said he’d seen the woman drop her son off at the school around the corner. I become consumed with the question of how she will explain this to him. How does the rage that must have been what propelled her to this act impact him?

These are people living ordinary lives, which will never be the same. This is an act that cannot be undone. But this isn’t the accidental slip of the hand that shattered your great grandmother’s vase, it is the trigger pulled, it is deliberate action taken, and at least two lives ruined.

Anyone who is a driver, especially in a city has had moments at an intersection of not seeing a pedestrian; it is unavoidable, it happens a lot, and that is how this started. My brain swirls with if only thoughts; if only the pedestrian had yielded, if only the driver had waited another ten seconds, if only she’d stopped and gotten out of her car when she struck the woman, and then I have to stop. I can no longer put myself in the driver’s place; she becomes a monster to me. The outraged child in me wants her punished, the adult in me wants her held accountable, the realistic part of me understands that her insurance company will pay the victim a ton of money, and the driver will spend a lifetime rationalizing her actions.

I still don’t know why I was at that corner at that precise moment. Maybe it was to write this story, or to testify in court (should that even happen), maybe it was to make me more careful and cautious as a driver in control of a 3,000 pound, motor driven weapon. Since then I am more fearful each time my daughter sets out on her bike to ride the three miles to school. I am more attentive at every corner, making sure there aren’t any pedestrians crossing. Even as a bystander this event is impacting my life daily. I finally no longer fall asleep or wake with the images of it going through my head. I do think about it often. I was merely a witness, but at least three lives were changed in that action that can never be undone.

*Since posting this a few people have reacted with disbelief, not at me but that a human being could and would do such a thing. If you want more info click here and here.