The Sound (9-20-12)

It’s a sound I’ve heard before… an ungodly sound that I wish I’d never have to hear again. One that I wish no one would ever have to hear again. It’s the sound of something moving at a high rate of speed crashing into something else. One second after I heard it I jumped up from my chair and said “oh no”. I kept repeating it as I walked quickly to the open side door. A few of my co-workers seemed to be wondering about the sound as well. I warned them that I knew that sound and that we were about to see something terrible. I must have said "oh no" nearly a dozen times on the way from my desk to the parking lot and it was there that my worst fears were realized.

I saw most of a motorcycle. I saw the body of it with both wheels still attached but missing several other parts, many of which were visible all over the street, some in many pieces. What I couldn’t see was the rider. We walked about 20 feet to the corner and took a look around it and saw what we were both hoping to and not hoping to find. There was a gray car with some serious damage all over its’ driver side but a more difficult sight than that to bear was that of the motorcyclist, face down on the street against the curb in a heap. There were already a few women near the man trying to communicate with him, one lady was frantic. From the sounds of it, she saw the accident occur as she was traveling down Main Street as well. She yelled out “don’t touch him” several times as onlookers leaned down to check on the man. He was twitching and moving most of his limbs a little bit and despite the obvious distress he was in, I considered this a good sign.

I never ventured in too close but I took a look back to take in the scene and try to determine what had happened. People were saying different things, probably guessing but the facts were indisputable. His bike was laying, mostly in pieces, on Lafayette Ave, he was laying face down about 30 feet away from it. One of his sneakers was where I thought the point of impact was, again about 30 feet away from the man and his other shoe, as we would find out later was about 40 feet down Lafayette in a different direction entirely.

My thoughts would go back and forth between trying to figure out how and why this happened and concern for this man who seemed to be in so much pain. Some people at the scene encouraged us all to pray while a few still tried to communicate with the fallen motorcyclist. One of our customers in the back room at the time of the crash often comes in wearing his scrubs so we knew he was in the least a nurse, so we asked him to get in there and he did. The wait for the ambulance was on… every minute seemed like ten. Nobody was saying it but people were generally worried this poor man could die right here on the street. People looking for positive signs had to look hard as there weren’t many but the fact that the man kept trying to move and the fact that there was no visible bleeding made some of us hopeful. He had to be told repeatedly not to move but as someone who has been in that situation I think it wasn’t unreasonable to assume he was in some level of shock.   

The driver of the car that hit him drove his badly dented vehicle into the Canisius parking lot a few feet away and then promptly disappeared. “That bastard!” someone yelled. Someone said they saw him walk casually away from the scene. People don’t leave the scenes of crimes or accidents unless they have something to hide. Was he unlicensed? Uninsured? Did he have something illegal in his possession? Was he intoxicated? A man’s life was in the balance due at least in part to this guy’s actions and he just leaves?

The ambulance arrives first a little more than 5 minutes after the call was made. A fire truck arrives shortly after. Then there were about 8 paramedics and firemen tending to the injured man. The crowd around the scene grew and you can hear many of the new people asking about what happened while those of us who’ve been here since that dreadful sound sigh and take deep breaths. The responders were rightfully being very careful with the man and it was several minutes before they felt good enough to simply turn him over on his back. When they took off his helmet and rolled him over, he let out the most awful scream. They moved him very gently, very slowly but it was still incredibly painful. I thought about going back inside. All of this brought back too many memories. From the sound of the impact, to the sight of the paramedics, the questions, the concerned onlookers. It reminded me of the time I was the one laying on the street wondering if I’d ever be the same again while still trying to process what it was that had just happened. My heart sank for this man. Some of the people who were really close were telling the rest of the crowd about things they saw, things they overheard.

Without being too graphic, it was pretty obvious that he had a broken arm and a broken leg. He had the kind of scrapes on one side that won’t heal in a week. Thankfully the man had that large helmet on as the whole side of it was scraped up and with how far he must have either been propelled, skid or some combination of both down the street, it probably saved him from instant death. There had to be internal injuries as well but as long as they weren’t performing life-saving CPR on him, I felt a glimmer of hope.

It took the paramedics and firemen nearly 15 minutes to get him from face down in the street to inside the ambulance and on the way to a medical facility. They were meticulous and careful. There was no way to know the extent of any internal injuries. I went back and forth to my desk and then back out to the crowd. It was hard to concentrate on work. Suddenly the driver of the car reappeared. He walked back into the crowd and immediately began talking to the police officers saying that the motorcyclist was swerving or something like that. We found out the motorcycle was zooming up Main and this guy in the car tried to make a right onto Main where he hit him. That’s why the driver’s side was the part of the car dented. I didn’t hear him explain why he felt compelled to leave the scene for 15-20 minutes and then return. Perhaps he had to hide something. Or maybe he was in shock too? He seemed too cool and relaxed in the circumstances to be in shock so my gut was telling me he might have felt the need to dispose of something in the car that he didn’t want anyone to find.

After the ambulance left and the police began taping off the scene for photography we all went back inside, discussing what we saw, what we heard and what we felt. My one co-worker said, “Wow Ed, when you heard that crash, you jumped out of your chair.” Yes, that sound has that kind of impact on me. Some people at work didn’t even flinch when it happened but I knew something terrible occurred. I’m not proud to know because it means that you’ve had to go through something similar before. It’s an initiation into a club I don’t want to be a member of. Unfortunately I am and unfortunately now that fallen rider is too.

Between my own brushes with death, people close to me dying and now seeing this with my own eyes, I know how precious life is. I know that we should enjoy as much as we can while we can. Its a few hours later and I’ve gone back to work now although my mind is elsewhere. My thoughts are with that man, who I’ve never met but since this crash happened literally 50 yards from my desk, he may as well be a friend now because I will wonder about his condition. I will go to sleep tonight thinking of him and while I go on hoping this man will be alright I will also hope that I never have to hear that sound ever again.