So its friday night, just got out of school and its the first day of spring break and of course I was out partying and drinking. Its starts getting late so me being myself I drink a few more beers befor I head home. As I'm driving home I know I'm fucked up, couldnt hold my lane, swereving all around rushing to get home cus I was running late. I go to turn into my naghborhood, I'm drunk and just pin it around the corner trying to slide out like a dumb ass, It kicks out, I lose it, hop the meadian, Im thinking "OHHHHH SHHHIITTT!!!" and the truck flips........Next thing I know my truck is on its roof, I try to open the door, its stuck shut, so I crawl out the window.
I was at party and the girls whos house it was asked me if it was ok if she threw the trash bags with all the beer bottles in the bed of my truck so I say ok. so theres glass and broken bottles everwhere at the seen so the first thing I did was pick evrything up and throw it in the woods and theres glass all in my foot cus I lost my shoe. Then I call my best freind, his dad is the police sargent for the county so they bolth show up, then I call my dad, he shows up and all tell you right now that was the happyiest ive ever been to see him, anyways he knew right away I been drinking, then the cops and EMTS got called called.
Anywas they show up, I check out fine, the cop rights his report and luckily I didnt get a ticket, or DUI.
But thank god I was whereing my seat belt one of the few times I do, I walked away with only a scratch on my wrist. But my truck is done for, and this is the worst feeling ever, im still shook up and ughhh Im just glad no one eles was involed and idk even know right now.... I can hardly type right now, im still buzzin and just soo shook up im almost in tears, im just thankfull I walked way.
Hers a pic of where I wrecked, Im going to the wrecker yard tommarow and all get a few pics of the truck, its pretty bad.... X marks the spot where it was on its roof.
Some how I walked away with only 2 little scratches on my wrist from crwaling out the window
I read this entire thread, and for some unproductive reason or another I think I'm going to be honest.
Welcome to the club. I've been in three alcohol related accidents and it took two near fatal accidents and wrecking a car I loved dearly to get me to quit. So if you aren't yet convinced, listen to these.
My buddy let me drive his new car. It was a volvo 740 turbo, intercooled, automatic. I'm telling this story as it was told to me. I don't know how much we had to drink, because I can't really remember a day before and a couple days after the accident because of the head injury I got as a result of it, but I had been drinking.
I was driving on a road in the middle of the night. Pretty empty road. Just a few houses, no cars that late at night really. He let me drive it because I knew how to drive a car at high-speeds and I knew how to handle rear-drive, and he wanted to learn a bit.
I was driving about 90 miles an hour and hit a patch of ice. (I'm pretty sure if I knew it was freezing out I wouldn't have been doing this.) I slid off the road and hit a little concrete ledge, flipped the vehicle and hit someones house. The house was brick and I hit an an angle so I bounced off of it and hit four 125 gallon propane tanks and the house that was behind them.
The propane didn't ignite, but I wasn't wearing my seatbelt. I have been told I ended up in the back of the car. I never fully regained the same amount of fine motor coordination and balance that I had before the accident. My hands shake, and I even still have a bit of a slur in my speech if you really pay attention. It took me months to re-learn how to make my girlfriend scream just with my fingers.
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And...
I loved the car. I paid 600 dollars for her, and she would not die. Once, before the accident, I was driving her. I thought I smelled smoke. I looked back and I saw a huge cloud of blue smoke coming from her. More than any vehicle I'd ever seen. More than any diesel. I opened up the hood and I see that oil is pouring from my air filter pan, and therefore my carborator. I thought she was dead. I drover her home and checked the oil while she was running. There wasn't any on the dipstick at all.
A couple days after that happened I started her so that I could move her, and the oil pressure was closer to normal. I let her idle for about an hour and sure enough, everything was the same as she was before. She knew I loved her. She fought hard to survive. She ran great after that.
Then one night I drank a bit of Jack Daniels. I went for a drive with a buddy of mine. The Talking Heads "Take Me to the River" was playing, and I was driving perfectly. I hit an expected patch of small round on the road, in a corner, over a rise. A belly dumper had lost it's load. I lost control of my '85 subaru, over-corrected and hit the guardrail head on at at least 65 MPH.
I wouldn't have over-corrected (even at that speed) if I had not been drinking.
The impact was so hard that my battery terminals came loose. When I put the battery back the clock that had never worked before came on but none of the dash lights came on. One flasher came on for about a minute then stopped. None of the break lights worked. My exhaust was on the ground, and one of my drivers seat mounts was broken. I tried to turn the engine over, and all I hear is metal on metal. I go back and look at the fluid on the ground. It's not coolant. (That radiator survived two 50mph+ wrecks.) It's my oil.
Nobody was hurt, but I'm not scared to admit that I cried over that car.
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Both accidents I was extremely lucky to have survived. If there had not been a guardrail and that propane ignited I would have killed many more people than just myself.
I cried over that subaru. How do you think
you would have felt about the retired couple who owned the propane tanks I hit?
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<other guy
