Confessions of a Liberal Puritan

I'm safe at my parents' house in Wisconsin now, but I only just arrived within the last hour (approx. 12:15 PM Central) -- 48 hours after I started this 9-hour trip on Wednesday!

Turns out, I would have been infinitely smarter to stay in Nashville and forget about travelling this Christmas. But my Dad's supposed to come home from the hospital tomorrow morning (Christmas Day), and Mom said he'd been asking about me and looking forward to seeing me when he got home. So, I would've felt just too guilty if I'd followed my instincts for self-preservation and stayed put.

I might just possibly have gotten through if I'd left Nashville Tuesday evening, as soon as I could throw my stuff in the car after seeing what the weather was going to be doing for the rest of the week -- but I would have had to drive straight through, without any sleep, in order to get through Kentucky and Indiana before the roads became impassible to mere front-wheel drive vehicles.

I left Nashville a little before 1 PM Central in a pouring rain on Wednesday, and 40 or so miles later, when I reached the Kentucky border, the wind felt freezing and the off and on ramps were quite slick. But I pressed on, hoping that my years of experience with winter driving in Wisconsin and Iowa would get me through, before the worst of the weather hit. No such luck! And, anyway, I'd reckoned without the fact that I'd be sharing the road with a whole lot of Southerners who all shared the same vain hope, and who didn't know anything about real winter storm driving.

I didn't dare take my hands off the wheel or my eyes off the road in order to eat or drink anything the whole way to Louisville, as first the trees along the road became coated with ice from the rain and arctic wind, and then the rain turned to snow and sleet. But I still made good time getting there, considering. Only a woman from Nashville driving one of those heavy SUV's whose 4-wheel-drive gave her a false sense of security, decided to brake ahead of me and in the lane to my right (I was in the far left lane, and there were cars alongside and behind me, as well as ahead). I watched her start fishtailing into my lane, and realized she was sliding broadside back toward me, so I started pumping my brakes and steered for the left shoulder, hoping to somehow avoid destruction.

Her broken left rear tail-light showed afterward what had happend. Her SUV was still spinning when it hit me, so the left rear corner of her car struck and crunched the right front of mine as I was trying to go around her in the only direction open to me. Her mass and velocity turned my remaining velocity into a left spin across the median to have a close encounter with the heavy south-bound traffic. I thought I was dead for sure, as I seemed to be about to present my side to oncoming traffic with no chance to stop in time. However, by steering to the left, I was able to brake, finally, with just my front tires on the left (when facing South) shoulder of the South-bound lanes and my nose pointed in the correct, south-going direction.

Though the right front wheel well was pressing on the tire some and my hood was buckled upward on that side, with a big gap between hood and what remained of my right front fender, I discovered that my car was still running, and was capable of backing down into the median strip (which was covered with about 8 inches of crusted over snow by then), then turning and driving back up onto the left shoulder of the North-bound lanes, again. The SUV, meanwhile, stayed where it had come to rest, cross-wise on the median strip, with its front end about two feet from the shoulder I parked on. Her SUV, of course, was barely dented, while my car appeared thoroughly squashed on the right side.

The other driver used her cell phone to call the Bullitt County sheriff, who sent a car to investigate, but as soon as the officer ascertained that no one was injured and that both vehicles were capable of getting themselves back on the road and out of the way without the need to call for a tow-truck, he just handed us each an insurance report to fill out and exchange with each other, and left. I'd heard on the Louisville NPR station, prior to our accident, that Louisville police were no longer filling out reports on non-injury accidents that day, because there were just too many serious accidents occuring.

Anyway, I was able to get my much-abused little car back on the interstate, and cross over to the barely creeping far right lane (which suited me just fine, considering how slick the roads were), in order to get off at the very next exit, where the policeman (before his hasty departure) had assured me I could find both motels and mechanics.

Because I was shaky with shock and desperate to get off the road and out of the snow (figuring that at nearly 5 PM local time my chances of getting a garage to take a look at my car that evening weren't good), I pulled into the second motel I saw, even though it looked way fancier than the El Cheapo motels I usually patronize.

I cannot say enough nice things about the Quality Inn at Brooks, Kentucky, and the lovely Indian or Pakistani family that runs it! Though I had no AAA or any other discount, they only charged me $59 a night for a great room (suite, really, with a separate sitting room with a second TV and a VCR!), complete with cable and premium channels, a King-size bed, and microwave and small refrigerator. That was the rate for a room with all those amenities except the extra TV and VCR. With that fridge to hold all the food I'd brought with me (all those lasagnas and jars of salsa, plus an apple crisp and the sandwiches I'd made to use up perishables before my trip), and Showtime and HBO to distract me, I was not too badly off!

When I checked in, I asked the manager if he could recommend a garage, and he got me the phone number and directions to the Goodyear place that services his car. So I dutifully called them, was pleased to find them still open after 5 PM local time, and made an appointment to have them look over my car and see if it was safe to drive (or could be fairly quickly made safe to drive) at 8 AM Thursday. I should have called again to confirm that they were open, I suppose, Thursday morning, but I was too busy scraping my car clear of ice and getting it out of its frozen rut in the deep snow of the parking lot (both with the help of very nice fellow travelers who saw me struggling and automatically pitched in to help!) to think of that.

So I drove 5 miles over barely passible local roads to reach the Goodyear garage, only to become stuck in the snow and ice of their parking lot and then learn that at 8:20 in the morning the place was still locked up and deserted (there was still no one there when I did call at mid-morning). I was well and truly stranded, I thought, but I didn't feel afraid or worried particularly -- it was just a problem to which a solution must be found. (I think I'd had all my panic and worry capacity used up in the crash on Wednesday and the sleepless night I'd just spent re-living it!)

Pretty soon, two young guys in a sporty car got themselves stuck in the access road twenty yards away, so I walked over and offered to help push them free, if they'd then help me push my car free. Our efforts weren't enough to free their car, so I went back to mine and tried to find something in my trunk that I could sacrifice and use to provide more grip for my tires. The papers I used didn't seem to help at all, but at least that kept me occupied for the next 15 or 20 minutes, until more locals running errands stopped by to try to assist the two guys. Again, I walked over there, and asked if five of us (plus one of the guys in the driver's seat) wasn't enough to push that car free? They decided to give it a try, though the eldest gentleman insisted that I stand clear and not get hurt (fine with me -- my arms were aching from the strain of the day before and my knees were bruised from trying to push my own car a precious inch or two with my leg muscles!).

Soon they had the two young guys' car free and able to proceed once more, so I asked if they wouldn't mind trying to help me, as well? It took a while longer, but they eventually managed to give me enough of a nudge to allow my car to reverse out of that parking lot, and then the eldest gent drove my car to the top of the hill through the mostly virgin snow, to the point where I could easily rejoin the main drag and get back to my hotel. Having driven my car, the white-haired gentleman assured me that it would not be fit to drive any distance without repairs (engine not working right), so I returned to the Quality Inn by around 9:30 AM local time, asked them if I could check back in for another night or more (which was when they gave me the suite at the same price as the lovely room I'd had the first night), and started calling around for some other place to take my car. I ended up talking to a collision center/body shop that would take my car that day (I assured them I didn't expect it to be fixed before Christmas), and unloading absolutely everything in my car into that new hotel room.

Then, all I had to do was await the arrival of The Cavalry, in the shape of my brother in his 4-wheel-drive pickup truck, who decided to drive down from Milwaukee and pick me up, as soon as it was learned that I wouldn't be able to drive myself anywhere until well after Christmas. He left Milwaukee at 9 AM Central yesterday morning, found clear roads and smooth sailing through Indianapolis, and then ended up PARKED along with hundreds of other cars and trucks for more than an hour at a time (one delay had him parked for three hours with his engine off most of the time to save gas and collecting cups of fresh snow from the roadside in a cup to melt and use to stave off thirst) trying to cover the last sixty miles to Louisville. It wasn't even possible for him to get off the interstate and try an alternate route, since every exit ramp was blocked by jack-knifed semi trucks stuck in the snow. He finally arrived at my hotel room just before midnight Central time (a six-hour trip on a good day having turned into a 15-hour ordeal).

Fortunately, unlike me, my brother has a cell phone, so he'd phoned ahead earlier that evening to warn me that, since the northbound lanes of I-65 seemed clear in spite of the mess on the southbound lanes, he wanted to start on the return journey as soon as we could get my stuff loaded into his truck. He'd said I should go to sleep as early as possible and try to rest up, so that I could take over the driving by the time we got back to Indianapolis and the bad roads were all behind us. Brother's rationale was that the northbound lanes were mostly free of traffic and free of hold-ups in the middle of the night, but that by morning they'd be clogged with drivers and resemble the mess he'd gotten stuck in on the way down.

The theory seemed good, and I'd had almost four hours of sleep, so I didn't try to argue with the guy who'd just been through hell in order to do me a favor.

We got through Louisville and through the patch of freeway which had been the worst of the worst on his southbound trip without incident. And then we came to a dead stop, along with a seemingly endless line of cars and trucks, with the nearest exit at least four absolutely immobile miles down the road. By that time, Brother had the county sheriff's phone number for that part of Indiana on speed-dial, as he called to make sure they knew we were all stuck out there in subzero temperatures, and to aske very politely what the problem was and what they were doing about it. Brother was told that there was a stalled vehicle blocking traffic 11 miles ahead of our current position, which they were trying to remove as soon as possible. That was at close to 1:30 AM Central time. By 3:30, when we still hadn't budged an inch, Brother had called a couple of more times, and been assured that the stalled vehicle had been dealt with and that traffic at the mile marker six miles ahead of us was reported to be moving once more. Another half-hour passed, and then finally we started moving.

Brother and I both decided to trust and hope that that was the last problem we'd experience that night, and so we didn't get off at the next exit and try to work our way north on local two-lane highway 31, which parallels I-65. Big mistake on both our parts! After we'd gone only six miles from our previous parking space, we found ourselves parked again, at which point my brother quite understandably began to feel a little crazed! The sheriff reported that they had a car trying to work its way back to us to find out what the problem was. And eventually we saw a fire truck with lights flashing come down the southbound lanes, then reverse itself (the police had stopped all southbound traffic ahead of us) and drive north to a point about a mile or two in front of us, and cross the median to our side of the highway. We couldn't see what was happening, but we hoped that it was being taken care of. Still, we waited. Finally, after we'd been parked for 45 minutes at this second hold-up, we saw a police car with flashing lights and screaming siren slowly driving South toward us.

Brother finally figured out what kept happening, at that point. Someone would over-estimate their vehicle's traction or the road conditions and do something stupid, blocking all traffic, and while waiting for it to be cleared, people (especially truck drivers) would go to SLEEP. So, even long after the initial problem had been cleared off the highway, traffic would still be blocked in both lanes by trucks and cars parked abreast of one another who were too sound asleep to know or care that the vehicles ahead of them had driven away! The police car at that second stop was trying to WAKE DRIVERS UP in order to make sure they used the perfectly clear road in front of them.

Brother had asked the sheriff during his last phone call, if he should get off at the next exit and take 31 North instead, and had received an emphatic "Yes!", but the Interstate seemed to be clear and moving once again, so we drove past the next exit, only to see many brake lights clumping up ahead of us in a long line. Another parking lot was about to claim us. However, there was a half-plowed turn-around lane on our left, allowing my brother's 4WD truck to turn onto the Southbound lanes, back toward the exit. We passed up the exit for those wanting to go Westbound only, since 31 was to the East side of 65 then, but when we got to the Eastbound exit, we found that it was blocked completely by a jack-knifed tractor trailor. Brother drove ahead and managed to drive the wrong way up the entrance ramp, only to find that it too was blocked and impassible even to his sure-footed vehicle, at the top.

We managed to get back to the Southbound lanes thanks to Brother's fearless driving, and then I reminded him that we could probably (in the almost total absence of other southbound traffic as far as we could see) back up to the first exit and simply find a convenient gas station in which to turn around and proceed East. So, Brother drove the wrong way up I-65 for a couple of miles, and we were finally able to work our way over to Hwy 31. Which was actually quite decent (at least for four-wheel drive) and in better shape than the interstate (having been driven on less -- to pack down the snow and turn it into ice -- and being much more sheltered from the drifting effects of the wind). We were able to average almost 40 miles an hour for the next hour or so, until we could see that the northbound lanes of I-65 had been clear for many miles, and we had reached the point where brother remembered that the difficult road conditions had really set in on his southbound journey.

We were cruising at 75 mph by the time we reached Indianapolis (at least six and a half hours after we'd left Louisville), stopped for a fast-food breakfast and gas in Lafayette, and then we switched seats and I drove us the rest of the way to Milwaukee (discovering to my delight that even in two-wheel drive mode Brother's truck is still quite sure-footed and happy to go 85 miles an hour for extended periods on a wide-open Interstate!).

Right now, I'm dopey with exhaustion and strain, but didn't want to try to sleep in broad daylight, when I'd just keep seeing the highway every time I shut my eyes. So I'm writing up this account of my journey, instead, for anyone who's interested or wants an extra reason to be grateful this season!

If you were nowhere near any of the mess caused by this record-breaking storm working its way up the Ohio River Valley, just be very, very glad and grateful!

I know I'm feeling very fortunate and grateful right now. I'm exceedingly grateful that I didn't die, or even get seriously hurt, in a potentially lethal accident, and that my car will be repaired while I hang out with my family this next week. And I'm grateful that my brother was insane enough to try to come and get me, no matter how tolerable and considerate the hotel people were.

But most of all, I'm grateful to anyone who thought about driving in that mess and then thought better of it! You have truly chosen the better portion!