Silence. Time seemed to stand still. Susan turned her head and saw a startled bird soar quickly past her window, feathers flying everywhere. Suddenly, her world ended in an explosion. The chassis of her Jeep crumpled 6 inches, shoving her legs toward her head. Her foot stomped solidly on the brake pedal far too late and the compressive force of the impact caused her right femur to shatter into what felt like hundreds of small pieces. At the same moment, she opened her mouth in shock, about to try to scream, when what felt like a brick wall slammed into her head. She would have bruises on half her face, but the newly designed steering column worked as advertised and broke away as her head hit the steering wheel, preventing any severe head trauma. Susan tried to take a deep breath to get back some of the wind that had been knocked out of her, but a quick gasp was all she could muster. Her first thought was, "How am I still alive?"
Francis and Jacob Jackson, a lovely 73-year-old couple driving their vintage Chevy home from their 50th wedding anniversary wondered the same thing. They both stared at the bridge embankment the small green Jeep had just leapt from at 55 miles per hour. The couple was totally in awe at the sheer miracle that the vehicle had landed on top of a trailer full of straw bales being pulled by a semi on the freeway below. They were so entranced by the sight that they never saw the flashing lights of the CHP cruiser directly in front of them. The elderly couple rear-ended the cruiser at full speed, causing the cruiser’s fuel tank to instantly explode into flames, sending a fireball and small mushroom cloud soaring into the air. The Chevy flipped on its side and slid into the concrete barrier that served as a railing to the bridge, sparks spraying everywhere. The sturdy old car easily burst through the barrier showering the landscape with concrete and came to a rest on its roof. The front half of the car hung over empty space; the left turn signal was still blinking as it had been for the past ten minutes.
The semi driver had no idea what had happened except his trailer seemed to suddenly stop, causing the truck’s drive train to race wildly. Then the trailer jackknifed into the left lane. The driver tried to correct but only made matters worse. The trailer seemed to have doubled in inertia and swung the whole rig around. The truck finally came to a stop after sliding almost a quarter mile down the pavement, blocking all three lanes. The driver frantically tried to open his door. In his hurry, he forgot that he had locked it. As he pulled on the lock, he stared out the windshield in horror. A family of four driving way above the speed limit smashed through a bale of hay in the middle lane. With brakes fully locked, the sedan screeched into the trailer. Unfortunately, unlike the movies, a convertible did not come out the other side. The car simply stopped, the roof peeled halfway off the car. The scene was ghastly silent, it was doubtful there would be survivors. The driver didn’t wait to see more; he jumped out of the cab and started running up the freeway to the nearest emergency call box.
California Highway Patrol officer Barry Baricsa could not have been having a worse day. He hated working odd shifts just because he was single and didn't have family living in the area. To top it all off, the speeder he had been chasing decided he would finally pull over on top of a bridge overpass. He had gotten out of his cruiser to tell the driver to pull ahead off the overpass and onto the shoulder, as there was no shoulder on the overpass and they were blocking over half of the right lane. Traffic was already starting to slow and back up. As he was waiting for the driver to roll down his window, he looked up just in time to see the Jeep go flying off the embankment. He could hear the loud hum of the rear axle spinning, turning the wheels as they clawed at the air. It seemed as if the vehicle had been shot from a cannon. Bit of grass and dirt followed the Jeep. He strained to look over the Mustang he had pulled over to see where the Jeep would land. Though he could not see it, he heard the sickening sound of impact and tires screeching and knew what had probably happened. He looked up, not seeing the semi jack-knife on the freeway below, to make sure the rest of the traffic was slowing up.
To his horror, the red car behind the Jeep did not even slow; it ran full speed into his cruiser, which exploded on impact. The now shortened, flaming patrol car rocketed into the Mustang. Barry tried to leap away as quickly as he could but before he could get a foot away from the Mustang the force of the explosion and impact threw him to the ground and into oncoming traffic. Tires squealed and rubber smoke filled the air as drivers did their best to avoid hitting the down officer as well as stay away from the blazing wreckage. The driver of the Mustang, who was not injured, jumped out and hurried over to help Barry up. Shaking, and unsure of what had happened, he stared blankly at the man, then turned to the blazing pile of twisted steel and stopped traffic.
The officer did not pause for long, however. His years of training and experienced quickly kicked in. "Thanks," he mumbled to the driver. Then, he cleared his throat and started to take charge of the situation. "Look, my radio’s shot. Run up to that emergency call box just past the overpass and get fire and rescue on their way."
The man turned and ran towards the phone. Barry turned to the traffic and realized he needed to get some of the cars cleared from the area. He put his fingers in his mouth and gave a sharp whistle, motioning for the drivers on the overpass to get moving. He quickly jogged back five cars and told the drivers in both lanes, "Look, I hate to ruin your day, but you’re going to have to stay put for awhile. There’s a real chance the cars up there could blow again and I need to keep traffic stopped until the fire trucks arrive."
Both drivers nodded, but their facial expressions clearly showed they were not happy at the delay. Barry did not wait for a response but turned and ran back towards his devastated patrol car. "Sarge is not going to be happy," he thought to himself.
Seeing two heads still upside down in the Chevy, the CHP officer sprinted over to the precariously balanced vehicle. The patrol car was only 50 feet away and the heat from the burning fuel was tremendous. The entire area hung thick with the stench of gasoline fumes mixed with burning oil and leaking antifreeze. The heat was so severe it was starting to melt the rubber on the rear tires of the patrol car. The front half of the Chevy was hanging into space, the rear half rocking up, then back into contact with the road. Barry knew he didn’t have much time. His first priority was to see if there was anyone alive to save. Luckily he had taken his night stick with him when he exited the patrol car and used it to quickly smash the rear window of the old car. He shouted, "Is anyone alive in there?!"
A shaky elderly woman’s voice answered meekly, "Yes, yes, we’re both alive. Help us, help us, please."
Barry heard a soft sobbing and knew he’d have to hurry. The occupants sounded old. If they were injured or started to panic, things could get really difficult. If he weren’t extremely careful, the whole car could plummet to the roadway below. He told them as calmly as he could, "Don’t worry. I am a CHP officer. I’ll get you both out of there in no time. Can you get your seat belts off?"
Jacob answered in a quiet but solid voice that hid the sheer terror he was feeling. He knew that his wife was near panic and that him panicking as well would not help them. He told the officer, "I think we both can get our belts off, but I think my legs are caught under the steering wheel. Neither of us are hurt too badly, but my wife’s head is bleeding."
Barry replied, "Ok. Ma’am, I’m going to take you out first. What I want you to do is take your seat belt off and very slowly crawl back to me." As he was saying this, he was using his night stick to clear as much glass as he could from the rear window.
Francis answered, "I…I don’t know if I can."
Jacob reached over and gently took his wife’s hand. She looked into his soft gray eyes, which were surrounded by wrinkles caused from years of a happy life filled with laughter. Both were near tears, but he managed a slight smile. Francis looked down and noticed that his hand was peppered with cuts from the windshield glass that had imploded when they flipped over; both their hands were shaking. Jacob softly told her, "Go ahead, you’ll be ok. I’ll be right behind you. I love you. If raising six kids can’t separate us, this sure won’t. Go on."
Francis looked again into her husband’s eyes and then gently squeezed her husband’s hand. A look of determination settled over her face and she quickly unfastened her seat belt. As soon as the belt was free, she fell to the roof of the car. "Ouch!" she cried, more startled than hurt. Barry, who had just climbed under the back seat of the overturned car, called, "Are you all right, ma’am?" He crawled to her as quickly as he could, fearing she may have broken her neck. As he moved forward, the car began to tip further and further over the edge of the overpass.
Jacob frantically looked down at his wife. She looked back and quickly patted him on his shoulder, belying the pure terror they both felt. Jacob set a grim look of determination on his face and told the officer, "Please, take care of her," he called. Barry didn’t stop to reassure the man. Instead, he took the old woman’s arm and half pushed, half pulled her across the roof of the car. As they moved to the back, the car settled back squarely on its room, for the moment staying firmly on the overpass. "I’ll be right back to get you, sir," Barry called as he pulled the old woman from the car.
"Please hurry," Jacob called back, frantically trying to free his legs from under the steering wheel. One of the bystanders rushed up and took Francis’ hand and guided her off the overpass to the shoulder below. Every few steps, she looked back at the precariously perched old car, knowing that each last glance would be her last chance to see her husband.
Barry could hear the sound of sirens in the distance. He was glad to hear help was on the way, the fire in his patrol car seemed to be spreading – it now engulfed the trunk and the back seat of the passenger compartment. The flames were coming dangerously close to the upside down car and their only route of escape. He slowly began inching his way back through the rear window toward the front of the car, ever mindful that too much weight in the front or too swift an action would send the car diving onto the freeway more than two stories below. As Barry crawled under the back seat, he was glad to see that the old man had his seat belt off and was trying to inch his way out of his seat. He also saw a fire truck drive slowly underneath the bridge on the freeway below. Unfortunately, it was not a ladder truck. He mumbled to himself, "Why are they stopping down there? The fire is up here!"
Knowing time was running out, he wedged himself in the space between the two front seats and put all his weight into getting the steering wheel off the man’s legs. With a heave from two sets of hands - one young and one wrinkled with age but filled with the strength of desperation, the man suddenly and solidly fell on to the roof. As he fell, he knocked Barry over, smashing the side of his head into the frame of the passenger door. Both heard a loud "Pop!" as the officer twisted his knee further than it was designed to twist. Not noticing the blood, pain or the swelling that began to immediately occur, Barry started pushing the man along the roof, trying to get him out of the vehicle.
Jacob pointed at Barry’s head and said, "You’re hurt. We need to get that taken care of right away!"
The fumes were starting to become overpowering. Barry knew that must make their escape now. "I’m fine," he replied, "we’ve got to get out of here now!"
As Barry pulled his leg with the twisted knee from the rear window, he hesitated a split second before getting clear. He tried to grasp the amazing site he saw out the front windshield of the vehicle. The entire highway below was ablaze with burning straw… Snapping his mind back to the present, Barry extracted himself from the car, grabbed Jacob by the arm, and the two sprinted away from the burning chaos that had now engulfed the patrol car and the Mustang. It seemed like it had been an eternity since he had broken the rear window, but in all it had been only five minutes.
As the two started to run, Barry noticed the fuel from the Chevy had been leaking and a puddle had formed. Suddenly the puddle turned into a moving stream – moving down hill directly for the blazing cruiser. Having lived this moment too many times already, Barry grabbed the old man and shouted, "She’s going to blow!"
Each man hobbled as quickly as they could toward the shoulder below, leaning on each other for support. Barry frantically waved to those waiting for them that they should keep moving up the road. Just as Barry and Jacob reached the shoulder, the fuel from the Chevy found the blazing cruiser. In an instant, the old car exploded, sending it flying off the overpass onto the freeway below. The blast took out almost the entire length of concrete barrier on the bridge and sent the two men flying. Thankfully, the emergency crew on the freeway below had cleared everything from under the overpass in case the Chevy should fall. The car plummeted to the roadway and erupted into a huge fireball, creating a two-foot deep crater in the middle of the road. Barry angled his body so he’d fall on top of the old man, protecting him from the flying debris. All in the area, including Barry and Jacob, were covered with concrete dust and a thin black film from the burning wreckage. More explosions filled the air and rocked the Earth underneath them as the Mustang also exploded, again showering all those in the area with molten debris. When the worst seemed to be over, Barry slowly rolled off the man and tried to check him out for injuries. Jacob pushed Barry’s probing hands away and said, "I’m fine. Where’s my wife."
"Jacob!" shouted Francis loudly, worried that this could be their last anniversary. She was so relieved when she saw her husband slowly get up and start to swagger towards her. She ran to him, threw her arms around him, and the two just stood there embracing.
Barry turned away to give the two a little privacy. As he did, he surveyed the scene behind and below him. One fire truck had arrived to work on putting out the two smoldering cars on the overpass and two ambulances were on their way up the other side of the road for the injured. On the freeway below, the scene could only be defined as amazing. A jack-knifed semi truck crossed all three lanes of traffic. A Jeep was perched solidly in the middle the trailer, wheels sticking through the bottom. The Jeep was surrounded completely by straw except for the driver’s side where rescue personnel were removing the driver on a backboard. Though Sandy’s legs were broken, she had lived. It would be two days before she found out what had happened on the roadway above.
Barry let out a gasp as he saw another car wedged underneath the trailer. Fire fighters had peeled off the roof of the car and were extracting two bodies on backboards. Two children were being led away by LAPD officers, who had also appeared on the scene. Another CHP cruiser then came into view. A blonde woman had started to direct traffic around the mess below. A CHP motor officer had also just arrived at the top of the bridge. At first, he started to direct traffic as well. As he surveyed the scene, he saw what was left of a six-pointed flag on the door of one of the vehicles. Recognizing the shield of the California Highway Patrol, the somewhat overweight officer frantically looked for a fellow patrolman. Barry saw Grossman and gave a meek smile and a thumbs-up. Artie sprinted to his motor and called CHP Central to inform the CHP community that one of their own had been involved in this horrible accident.
As the events of the last 20 minutes began to sink in, Barry looked down and saw that his hands were shaking. Suddenly, his wrecked knee finally gave out. He half sat, half fell to the ground and put his head between his knees. Grossman sprinted over the best he could as soon as he saw Barry start to go down. An ambulance attendant quickly ran up, as did both the Jacksons. The medic quickly opened his medical kit and starting preparing a large gauze bandage. Barry put up his hands and told the young man and his fellow officer, "I’m fine, just a little winded." Francis softly touched the side of his head. As she did so, his head burst into a fireball of pain. He saw nothing but a black sky full of bright white fireworks. He almost passed out and let out a loud gasp of surprise and pain. He looked to Francis and saw her hand was covered in blood – his blood.
It was then that he noticed the grass around him was also covered in blood. Francis told him softly, "You saved our lives, now it’s our turn. I’m a registered nurse and my husband is a doctor. You’re in fine hands. I think your wounds look worse than they really are. You do have a nasty gash along your scalp that we’ll have to get you to the hospital for, though."
Jacob added, "By the looks of it, though, I doubt you suffered anything serious. It’s amazing you managed to go this long without noticing, though. I guess we all had guardian angels with us this morning."
Francis looked to her husband and said, "As we should. If we are ever going to be in His care, Christmas Day is the day."
Gratefully, and with a smile, Barry looked up at the couple, wincing as the medic applied the bandages. He said softly, "This never should have happened, I should not have let that guy stop there."
Francis said, "But it did happen. What if it would have happened anyway but you wouldn’t have been here? We would still be in the car, probably dead. No matter what you say, it did happen and you saved our lives. We’ll be eternally grateful to you." She looked to her husband and managed a meek smile, "See, I told you that getting married on Christmas would save our lives some day."
Barry looked at the two, obviously as in love as the day they were wed. He looked at Francis and asked simply, "Can you recommend a good doctor?"