It's faint but still there. Fading but not gone. In the midst of the COVID follies I noticed this again .... had been a long time since I considered it, so much so that the cause wouldn't reveal itself. Week after week the memory remained elusive until just after Snow-Ma-Geddon when all of the accident reports started coming in. Triggering.

It was 1977 or 1978, I was somewhere's around 16 years old and had been walking to school for a few years to avoid the bus. The run was full of bullies and had an ineffective driver who just let things roll. Didn't hurt that walking took 20 minutes and the bus took over an hour, giving me some time back in my days. 

The route was the access road besides some railroad tracks running parallel to a main local route that was prone to accidents. Several times over the 6 years I walked I happened across accidents of varying severity but this one was the first. And the worst.

It was a pleasant enough day for walking, dry and the sun coming up when I heard the tell-tale screeching tires and turned just in time to see and hear the crunch. Ran to the scene of a car embedded in the rear of a pick-up, an crunch that today would have totaled the car but likely would have been light on injuries but then was not now. No air bags, crumple zones were something newer and a bit exotic, and even seat belt use was optional. 

The truck driver was furious and got out screaming all sorts of profanities, some combos I had never heard before. Good, he's OK so let's check the car. But he was so mad he cut me off, knocking me down on his way to accost the offender. And then he went silent. And then he doubled over, puking and chocking over what he saw.

Regaining my feet, found a 20-something woman with her head on the Steering Wheel. Glass, blood, carnage. Carefully lifted her head up and tried to identify the source of the blood then sacrificed my shirt to create temporary bandage an put pressure on the wound that was evident. The other driver had regained some composure, not nearly enough. His only concern was making sure EVERYONE knew he was the victim. No cell phones so I had to send someone to call for help.

After a few minutes she regained consciousness and was completely disoriented, trying to push me away while yelling for help. Was able to calm her and get pressure back on but it was obvious something was very wrong.

Me: Where does it hurt?

Her: I'm fine, nothing hurts. Let me out.

Me: I can't. The door is jammed and if I let go you'll start bleeding again.

Her: But I'm not hurt, I feel OK. Why are you holding my hand?

Me: Just to help you relax maybe? You need to hold still for a bit.

She was not OK. Her face hit the steering wheel full-on and was disfigured some. The obvious bleeding. And no pain. To keep her calm I asked twenty questions and then asked some more. Where was she going? Where did she live? Was she married? Anything to distract and keep from having to answer the question ....

(It went something like this, maybe?) 

Her: Am I going to be OK? 

Me: Sure, you'll be fine once the Ambulance gets here

Her: An ambulance? Are you sure that's necessary?

Me: Let's just be cautious, they'll check everything out and make sure. Um, you're OK (sirens in the distance)

Her: I think my legs are stuck, I can't move them. Wait, I can't feel them, are you sure I'm OK?

Me: Hear the sirens? The ambulance will be right here to take care of you.

Her: Oh my God! (noticing the blood) Call my fiancé, I need him now!

Me: 

Her: Oh God, I'm not going to get married, am I? 

Me: 

And then the recollection fades. She talked briefly about her wedding, about some life plans, slowly fading out. 

Then she passed, just as the ambulance arrived. I was pushed out of the way and became just another by-stander until the police arrived and cleared the area. The truck driver was still telling random folks it wasn't his fault. He was the victim. One Officer was mindful enough and kind enough to write a note to save me from school discipline and I walked the remaining 200 yards or so to school. 

Realizing my shirt was long gone, I headed to the locker room to get my gym shirt, washed my hands and arms off and realized some of that blood was mine. You can see the scar in that picture. The original wound was 1/3rd of the way around my arm so I wandered to the nurse's office and she bandaged it up, then asked what happened. I handed her the note from the officer. She didn't say another word, just handed me a hall pass and sent me to my 'next' class. 

Several days later I was called to the office in the middle of the day and had to recount the event for her parents and fiancé. They didn't know how to respond, I didn't know what more to say. The school councilor was there. Afterwards he produced the note from the officer. It simply said "Please excuse Jeff for his tardiness, he was assisting officers and medics at an accident site." Signed officer so-and-so. He asked if I was OK, I said yes. That was that.

Her name was Mary.