Out For a Spin

 

Be glad in the Lord,

and rejoice, ye righteous:

and shout for joy,

all ye that are upright in heart.

— Psalm 32:11

             

            I've been her friend since before we could talk. She calls me "Cob" and I call her "Mad Phantom." Lisa is a beautiful person, very precious to me. But last week, she probably should have died.

 

            She was just out for a spin, driving home with Jeffrey, her college-aged son, and Charlie, her bouncy West Highland White, when:

 

            KA-BOOM!

 

            A car ran a red light at a busy intersection and smashed into Lisa's car. It shot up into the air, arched across the intersection, and came down - WHAM! - upside down and spinning.

 

            Glass shattered.

 

            Metal crunched.

 

            Someone was screaming. Oh! It was her!

 

           

 

           

            She opened her eyes to the disconcerting experience of hanging upside down in the driver's seat, held in place by her seat belt, and stuck, because a hank of her shoulder-length hair was caught between the car . . . and the pavement.

 

            Lisa's first thought: Jeffrey! Was he OK?

 

            He was. He dizzily clambered out.

 

            She thought the car was going to explode, and screamed for help.

 

            Immediately, a passer-by arrived, like Lisa, a teacher. She focused on the "Boys Town" on his sweatshirt, feeling relief. He quickly extracted her from the car to safety, cradling her like a baby.

 

            The next person to arrive was a nurse. She checked Lisa over.

 

            Scratch on finger, scratch on foot. That's all. That's it!

 

            That's ALL?!?!? That's IT?!?!? 

 

            Lisa began kissing this Good Samaritan all over her face . . . 'til she remembered Charlie.

 

            Her little white dog! He had no seatbelt on, of course. Had he been tossed out during the spin? Was he mangled? Dead?

 

            Jeffrey quickly found him, in the built-in cooler in the back of the SUV. Just his size. He must have rolled right in. He was trembling, but wagging his tail.

 

            The other driver, a teenager, was OK, too. Lisa hugged him, comforting him.

 

            The firefighters arrived, took one look, and shook their heads. No one should've lived. Never seen anything like it.

 

            She later learned that a close friend, another nurse, had driven by and prayed fervently for the life of whoever was involved in such a horrible accident.

 

            A little old gent in a green bow tie and a Husker shirt walked all around the accident scene, picking up scattered objects to return to Lisa. He was cute - adorable - and she had the mysterious, delicious sense that the spirit of her late father was there.

 

            Which reminded her: her mother! She had Jeffrey call her and assure her they were all right. She raced to the scene and they practically had to pry her hands off the wheel, she was so frightened.

 

 

Lisa and Jeffrey at Omaha's new 9/11 Memorial.

Jeffrey's hand is one of those cast for the sculpture.

They had located it, and had this picture taken, shortly before the accident.

 

 

            Lisa has suffered a little post-trauma shock, but was back teaching after two days. Narrow escape, happy ending.

 

            But there's more: Lisa has been struck by the fact that, in recent months, she has felt an overwhelming pull to reconnect with old friends. I've been the happy recipient of it, among many others. She's not the organizer type, but she felt compelled to put together the first reunion in 30 years of her sorority sisters. She's done what she could to patch up a few relationships that needed it. Her son goes to school in California, and it was the first time she'd seen him since Christmas.

 

            Last weekend, she even returned some photos to an old chum that she has kept since college, when their mutual friend was killed in an accident. He had asked her to keep them for him because they were too painful. Finally, it was time to give them back.

 

            It was almost as if she had gotten right with the world, and was supposed to die in that crash.

 

            Nahhh.

 

            The Lord just let her world get turned upside down for an instant . . . to show her He has her completely covered.

 

            God is good! Shoutin' good!

 

            I brought her something to celebrate that. It was her idea:

 

            Pineapple upside-down cake.

 

            Mmmmmm! Any way you look at it, my Mad Phantom . . . life is sweet. †