“So, I guess it didn’t matter if we got the car dirty anyway.” – Aaron, when I rolled the car in Provo Canyon, after the paramedics and Highway Patrol had left. When we were leaving Sundance Ski Resort, I had asked the boys not to put their boots in the back seat area because it would get the car dirty.
I rolled the car, coming back from Sundance Ski Resort, after skiing with the boys. There had been six or seven inches of snow in the canyon last night, but this morning was beautiful. I had to put on the chains to get up the mountain to Sundance, but I took them off to come back down on the highway. I was going 45 or 50 miles an hour, and I hit a patch of ice still in the road. We started to slide into oncoming traffic. There was no median on that stretch. I cranked the wheel back hard the other way, and the car began to spin until we were almost backwards. We hit the snowbank on the shoulder and rolled the car two or three times. It was a strange feeling. Suddenly we were upside down and rolling; and it felt like we went upside down at least twice. We ended up on our side, with our wheels up in the air, resting on the snow. It all happened so fast that there was hardly any time to be afraid. When we came to a stop, I could hear each of the boys hollering in the back. I turned around and saw that they were all conscious and hanging in their seatbelts. Aaron started to scream, a little bit paniced, but I called his name and told him to look at me; and when he did, I assured him that we were all okay and that there was no need to be afraid. So he calmed down.
Several cars stopped on the highway, and people came over to help us. A couple of men helped me and the boys get out the smashed passenger side windows -- none of the doors would open. Someone dialed 911, and before long we had two state trooper vehicles, an ambulance, and a fire truck there. The paramedics asked us questions to make sure we weren't hurt, then allowed the boys into the back of the ambulance to stay warm.
I called Emily to let her know. I called mom and dad, and they came and picked us up.
A wrecking crew showed up, towed the car out of the snow, and took it to the junk yard.
We were grateful we could walk away. We said a prayer of thanks, right there on the snow, the four of us. The only injuries were very minor cuts from climbing out of the windows. We were grateful to make it back home to Emily and Norah.
It was a nice day on the slopes other than that. I took a few pictures: one on the way up the mountain; a couple on the way up the lift.
Post Script from the next Day:
I have tried not to think about the accident very much – i.e., considering the many possibilities that could have resulted in a much more tragic outcome. I think that fear thrives on thoughts of that which
might happen but often never does -- or thoughts of that which
did happen, but we are powerless to change. Rather, I have tried to have my heart full of gratitude to the Lord that we were all safe. I do not think that gratitude necessarily benefits from harrowing up all the possible horrors. I am very grateful that we walked away unharmed.
But that thought has made me reflect on the many people in life who don’t “walk away” from their tragedies. One of the paramedics told me about a double fatality from a similar accident a couple of weeks ago, same canyon. I know that those tragedies should not diminish my personal gratitude for my own blessings. However, it has made me reflect on the fact that, even if we cannot count on walking away safe from tragedies in this life, we can, because of the atonement of Jesus Christ, look forward to ultimately walking away from the great tragedies of this life: sin and death. I am forever grateful for that. And, having a brush with my own mortality brings those issues to the forefront.