Some of you have heard about a tragic accident in Arizona where a truck crashed in a group of motorcyclists. A number were killed and the story is very tragic.
Jason Anania was one of the bikers hit by the truck. He has written a number of articles explaining the event from his perspective. I have his permission to repost them here. I debated posting these, because I don’t like to focus on the negative, however I felt it was a great reminder that life is precious and you really don’t know when and how something terrible can happen.
Jason’s only request was that I link to his facebook page. You can friend him here.
Here’s part one:
Hello everyone! I wanted to wait until I got home later this afternoon (it is officially Sunday — just barely), but I’m too wide awake and I have a heart too full of things to share. I want to make sure that this is all very respectful of everyone involved. I’m going to just start at the beginning without dragging things out too much. It’s my opportunity to present the whole story with the hindsight added to things. Gather round the campfire…
I initially didn’t know if I’d make it out to this ride. I had an appointment with my chiropractor first thing in the morning, but I wanted to be prepared, jut in case I could make it. I was able to get in and out of there quick (Dr. Jodi, I wish I was on your adjustment table right now), so I headed over to the kick-off point. I probably just missed everyone heading out. I wasn’t sure of the route, but I knew the destination. Factoring in any gass-up time, I figured I just might catch up with them. I got to the Roadrunner straight away, and was early. I started up a conversation with a husband and wife that arrived by motorcycles right before me. The wife was riding a Nightster and I shared pictures with her of “The Punisher” (my 883 Iron that is all blacked out with some comic book hero, Punisher-like skulls on it). When their food showed up, I excused myself. She is the manager at a local auto parts store in the north valley. I did plan on looking her store up, but now I just need to track her down. Period. Once I got outside, I was welcomed with the hearty greetings of the group.
Out of respect, I’m staying away from names, even if we might all know who is who. Dignity. I walked up and gave the group leader a hug and received a big one in return. The two “social butterflies” of the group made sure that introductions were carried out, even from halfway across the patio. I waved “hi” to a few new faces and to a few good friends. I took my seat at the end of the table, being sure to seat myself where I’d have a good view of all the eye-candy in the parking corral. While waiting for food, we did motorcycle enthusiast things — We checked out all the latest rides to grace the group, we talked about accessories, where we wanted to ride next, etc. I showed off the new saddle on my Bonneville and the other little bits I’d done to have it mirror my much beloved T100. It’s the one in my profile pictures. Man, I miss that bike. Just before the food got there, I was standing down at the other end of the table when the couple from inside came out. We shook hands and embraced like old friends. I promised to find her store. Now there is no way I can’t go. I just hope I can find it!
I remember the seating positions and what people had for lunch. The gravity of something so minor weighs so heavily.
We all headed out after lunch. I was the first one out of the corral. A couple bikes were parked in the other lot and were waiting for us. As things shook out, I found myself near the front of the group. Since this was my first time riding with them for the day, I was checking everyone out. I saw some riding styles from friends that were not quite like what I’m used to seeing. Not better, not worse… Just definitely different from the usual style. Those individual nuances are for me to cherish. I’m sorry at can’t share more. After 10–15 minutes on the road, I watched the positions change as 2 bikes headed off on the I-17 exit. As we drifted along, I remember the distinct though of, “Oh, a couple people are heading back already. Boy, it’s a nice day. I guess I’m making the right choice by staying on for the journey to the la…BAMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It was that quick. It was the longest moment of impact I’ve ever experienced, and trust me, I know of what I speak. That collision lasted forever. I kept waiting for it to end. My boot was ripped off, and before I hit the ground I knew my leg was broken. I remember being hit by a wall, very uniformly across my back. My Bonneville was spun out to the left of me and I hit the ground. I stayed conscious and lucid the entire time. I let out a guttural howl as I waited for my breath to return. Once I got it out, I heard someone holler to ask if I was ok. My mind processed one million things that next moment. The world just exploded. I had no idea what had happened. There was not a sound of breaking rubber to be heard. I was in the #3 position as the entire group sat at a stop light. The group leader was directly in front of me. A fraction of an instant before the world ended, I saw her rise from her seat and throw a quick glance over her shoulder. Game over. As I assessed myself, lying in the road, I could feel my right foot flopping around on the end of my leg. I knew that it was, at the very least, an open tibia fracture. I also knew that the humanity-ending event that I had just experienced was way bigger than I even knew. The little sliver that I saw was life-shattering and devastating, but I knew there was more going on behind me that I couldn’t turn over to see.
Once I was able to throw a glance over my shoulder, I saw a truck in flames. In the quick glance I had, I though it might have been a fuel truck. The flames were disturbingly close. Right then I heard a voice shout, “We gotta move him. This truck could blow!” Thus reinforcing my initial impression that it was a fuel truck. A moment later, multiple hands were cradled under me and lifting me. I told them about by leg and they made sure to stabilize it. The way that leg was all floppy, there was no way I could lay on my back. They laid me down on my side. I was with it enough to realize that I needed to take some actions. Since I was laying on my side, I was supporting my own helmet-covered head. I knew I didn’t hit my head, and it was pretty clear my cervical spine was not too acute. I was able to pull my phone out of my pocket and knew I had to make some calls. I tried using the hands-free speaker, but there was too much background noise for me to hear anything. I loosened my helmet and handed it off. A woman that had come out from one of the local businesses cradled my head until someone brought over folded blankets for me to rest my head on. I slipped off my headphones (I remember I was listening to an educational Podcast at the time) and the woman that had cradled my head took my headphones and placed them in my left chest pocket and zipped it closed. She was very conscientious. Next I called my boss. “What?!?!” Let me explain. I’m a nurse. I called my boss and told her that I was in a HUGE accident. She asked why I was calling her. I told her because I would be coming to her as a level 1 trauma and I wanted her to be ready. Then I called mom. Mom is a nurse, too, so I knew she could handle this. I was with it, so I wanted her to find out right from the horse’s mouth that I was ok.
I’ll post part two tomorrow.
