I had a rather disconcerting experience last Friday.

I decided to stop in Staunton to visit Vater Smallholder and see how his colonoscopy had gone. Assuming that things had all checked out, I was planning on delivering a bit or ribbing too. Rectal examinations are always humorous as long as the snaky pipe is in someone else’s rear.

When I pulled off 81 at Route 275, there was a heinous accident just ahead of me. I didn’t actually see the hit since I was on the turn of the exit, but probably would have heard the screams of shearing metal if I hadn’t been jamming to the Black Eyed Peas. Three cars up, a driver pulled onto 275 without looking and was hit at about 50 or 60 miles per hour. The cars crunched, slipped across two lanes and slipped into a narrow ravine. As I completed the exit turn, the car wheels were still spinning.

One car had flames coming out of the engine compartment.

I slid my trusty F-150 into a ditch and ran across the highway. I was the first person to reach the burning car and pulled the driver’s door open. The woman inside had a broken nose and was spewing a bit of blood. She was also obviously dazed.

I hesitated. If the flames were rampaging around the car, I would have pulled her out without a second thought. But now that I was standing next to the vehicle, I could see down into the engine block (the hood was accordion crumpled up against the windshield. Looking back, I’m not quite sure how that happened - the whole front was crumpled, but the hood was crumpled more than the body of the engine compartment). The flames were just little flickers and what had at first appeared to be smoke turned out to be a cloud of escaping steam.

So I hesitated. If the fire wasn’t that bad, did i still justify pulling her from the vehicle? What if she had a head or spinal injury? Would moving her cause more damage?

This hesitation lasted maybe five seconds while my brain wrestled with the best solution. Then a voice behind me said: “I’m a nurse. Let’s get her out.” Grateful for direction, I followed orders.

The nurse had been in the car behind me. When I looked around, there were over a dozen people pulling over and running to help. I had one of those “God bless America” moments - all these people were rushing to help total strangers.

The careless driver was in worse shape. He was bleeding profusely, his nose was airbag mush, and he was clearly incoherent. He was rolling from side to side in his seat and moaning. We decided that we had to stabilize him until help arrived (several people had dialed 911 on their cell phones). But we couldn’t get to him - the impact had crushed in his door and we couldn’t pop it open. The other doors were locked.

A couple big truckers and I grabbed the edge of the doorframe that had bent outwards and pulled it back just enough for a skinny teenager to reach his arm in and unlock the back door. We jerked it open and the teenager crawled through the car to open the passenger door. Another nurse had arrived at the scene and crawled in to administer first aid with an EMT kit. We tried to tell the man to sit still but he kept flailing around so someone sat in the backseat and held his head against the headrest.

I’m glad his car, crumpled side and front as it was, did not catch fire - we couldn’t have gotten the man out of his vehicle because the engine has pushed the dashboard back into the passenger compartment, trapping the man’s right leg.

Help took fifteen minutes to arrive, but when it did arrive it arrived in force - two fire trucks, two ambulances, an EMT vehicle and a fire sedan. When it became obvious that all the helpers who had stopped were getting in the way, I said goodbye and continued on to my parents’ house.
Driving away, the adrenaline drained away and I began to get the shakes. I kept thinking about that moment of hesitation.

My brain often stops to consider the pros and cons of each situation. This is generally an asset, but in a crisis situation it is a liability. What if the nurse hadn’t been right behind me? I probably would have ended up pulling the woman out of the car anyway, but what if she had had a neck injury? I don’t think she did because by the time I left she was sitting up and talking to the paramedics, but it was a possibility. How bad would you feel if, trying to be helpful, you paralyzed a spinal cord victim?

Thinking about that critical moment hesitation, I had to stop and thank God that my military hitch ended before I had to make any decisions more important than who would get a three day pass. I imagine that in a combat situation, there will always be several possible courses of action. Good leaders make decisions instantly and carry them out. Would hesitation to consider the pros and cons of each action end up getting soldiers killed? Thank God I will never have to find out.