Ben's bad accident
tomlet
Published
05/30/2012
Deunan's blog made me relive some human wreckage I've experienced in my past. Those pre-seatbelt, pre-airbag collisions were fucking brutal. This is the worst one I have first hand knowledge of. Fortunately, I wasn't there when it happened.
From sixth to tenth grade, Ben was one of my best friends. He was different from a lot of the people I hung out with. He was super Christian, didn't drink or do drugs at all, and spent a lot of time excelling at school.
He moved about an hour away at the end of tenth grade from Round Rock School District to Lake Travis School District. His father was a fireman and got the job of chief for the Travis community. His senior year, Ben was valedictorian of his small high school. He'd been accepted to the Plan II honors program at University of Texas and the sky was the limit for him.
He lived near one of the best swimmin' holes on the planet: Hamilton Pool. It has a 50' waterfall and a 75' cliff to jump off of, if you have the sack to do it. It's surrounded by excellent hiking and camping and the wild life was legion.
No shit, this is a picture of it. It's kind of in a crater with an overhang of limestone, covered with moss and swallow nests:
It was kind of out of the way and there was a single, private road that led to it. The road was poorly maintained so the potholes were a real problem. The traffic was so light, that you could use both lanes and keep your car on the side of the road with the least potholes to keep your speed up.
Ben was on his way out to the pool at night. Nobody's quite sure what happened, but there was an alcohol related head on. Ben drove this crappy little kit car. It was a Ferrari 308 looking car that was a modified VW Bug. It wasn't that fast. It certainly wasn't designed for a high speed head on with a full sized Oldsmobile driven by somebody with a dangerously high blood alcohol content.
It was a couple of hours before anybody got there. Who was the first on the scene? The fire department. His father didn't even recognize the car. When they cut Ben out of the car with the jaws of life, he didn't even recognize his son. The whole time, Ben's father was saying "That poor kid's family... I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy."
Ben's dad didn't understand the situation until he got the wallet out of his dead son's pocket. Imagine the feeling seeing your son's smiling face on the license you just pulled out of the pocket of 150 pounds of human hamburger. Three days later, at the funeral, he was still inconsolable.
I had a lot of friends get maimed or killed in cars. This one is still the one that bothers me the most. Ben had the most to lose. He was a great kid with a great life ahead of him. At eighteen, it was all over for him.
From sixth to tenth grade, Ben was one of my best friends. He was different from a lot of the people I hung out with. He was super Christian, didn't drink or do drugs at all, and spent a lot of time excelling at school.
He moved about an hour away at the end of tenth grade from Round Rock School District to Lake Travis School District. His father was a fireman and got the job of chief for the Travis community. His senior year, Ben was valedictorian of his small high school. He'd been accepted to the Plan II honors program at University of Texas and the sky was the limit for him.
He lived near one of the best swimmin' holes on the planet: Hamilton Pool. It has a 50' waterfall and a 75' cliff to jump off of, if you have the sack to do it. It's surrounded by excellent hiking and camping and the wild life was legion.
No shit, this is a picture of it. It's kind of in a crater with an overhang of limestone, covered with moss and swallow nests:
It was kind of out of the way and there was a single, private road that led to it. The road was poorly maintained so the potholes were a real problem. The traffic was so light, that you could use both lanes and keep your car on the side of the road with the least potholes to keep your speed up.
Ben was on his way out to the pool at night. Nobody's quite sure what happened, but there was an alcohol related head on. Ben drove this crappy little kit car. It was a Ferrari 308 looking car that was a modified VW Bug. It wasn't that fast. It certainly wasn't designed for a high speed head on with a full sized Oldsmobile driven by somebody with a dangerously high blood alcohol content.
It was a couple of hours before anybody got there. Who was the first on the scene? The fire department. His father didn't even recognize the car. When they cut Ben out of the car with the jaws of life, he didn't even recognize his son. The whole time, Ben's father was saying "That poor kid's family... I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy."
Ben's dad didn't understand the situation until he got the wallet out of his dead son's pocket. Imagine the feeling seeing your son's smiling face on the license you just pulled out of the pocket of 150 pounds of human hamburger. Three days later, at the funeral, he was still inconsolable.
I had a lot of friends get maimed or killed in cars. This one is still the one that bothers me the most. Ben had the most to lose. He was a great kid with a great life ahead of him. At eighteen, it was all over for him.
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