That Night

I wondered if I would ever get around to writing this post.

I wasn't sure if it was necessary. 

But, a lot of time has passed, and I'm realizing that people still want to know what happened the night of the accident.

I told the story in person to most of the folks I felt needed to hear it in person. I've also shared it with people who have asked.

I don't mind people asking. I now understand that not knowing, can be just as hard as knowing. Some people need the closure of hearing the story.

So, for those of you who need the closure, I share the saddest story I will ever tell.

We needed a new couch.

Tiffany's old brown couch from her apartment had been taken over by Jax and it was unfit for guest use. A friend that she worked with was getting rid of her nice couch to get new furniture, so she offered us the couch for free.

We borrowed a truck from some friends in the church, loaded up the old couch to take to Goodwill, and we made our way to Muncie.

We were originally planning on making the trip the previous Friday. But, after a day of work, and a bad weather forecast, we decided to postpone until Sunday.

Upon arriving in Muncie, we dropped the couch off at Goodwill and proceeded to go out for dinner. Eating out in Muncie was always a highlight for Tiffany. Between living in Bryant and working in Gas City, she wasn't afforded the opportunity to sit down to a nice dinner very often.

After dinner, we went to her friend/co-workers house. We loaded up the couch and began our journey home. The weather wasn't "bad", the condensation in the air was so inconsequential that we opted to not cover the couch with the tarp we had purchased.

I was concerned about the possibility of some of the couch cushions flying out of the truck bed. So, we pulled into Hi-Way 3 hardware on the edge of town and she grabbed a couple of them. She placed one between us on the bench seat, and she held one in her lap and she remarked, "This oughta keep me safe."

Driving slowly and steadily, so as to not lose the remaining couch cushions in the truck bed, we made our way to Portland.

Again, the weather hadn't presented any threat. I never lost traction or felt unsafe.

As we made our way North out of Portland, we were having a laugh about some of the low rent motels on that side of town. We wondered, who would ever stay at these places?

Right after that, Tiffany turned to me and said "Wouldn't it suck if this thing (the truck) rolled?"

Before I could jokingly give her a smart assed answer about how the truck wouldn't roll or it's built tough enough to be safe either way...

We hit black ice.

I wasn't even up to the speed limit coming out of Portland. The curve is so slight you'd never take notice of it. I wasn't texting. I wasn't drunk. I wasn't distracted.

We hit black ice. And, I lost the rear end of the truck.

As I tried to regain control, my only thought was to avoid the telephone pole. I thought driving into the field wouldn't be a problem, hitting the pole would be. Either way, I had no control over what happened.

We hit the only spot of the field where there was a slight embankment, and that caused the truck to roll. I'm told that the insurance agent called it a slow roll, which is the worst kind.

We rolled one and a half times and came to rest upside down.

I couldn't see Tiffany because the couch cushion was between us.

She wouldn't respond to me shouting her name.

I hoped she was unconscious. But, she was already gone. 

I hope that you, like me, can find some small, small comfort in knowing that she died instantly and she didn't suffer.

My left clavicle was broken, but I was determined to get to my wife. My phone was gone, so I couldn't call for help. So, I reached into my left pocket with my right hand and retrieved my pocket knife. I used it to cut myself out of the seatbelt. Much to my dismay, I couldn't climb out of the driver side window, the cab was too smashed in.

Someone, who I never saw the face of, showed up relatively soon. I told him I was okay and I begged him to check on my wife. This man was smart enough to dial 911 first. He then went to check on Tiffany, and he said that he couldn't see her. This was not a good sign.

The emergency crew arrived within minutes as I continued to call her name, praying that she would respond.

Zach, the son-in-law of the people whose truck I was driving was one of the first responders. He was the first person that made me feel safe.

It took a while for them to get me out of the truck. They had to secure it so that it wouldn't collapse more as they cut me out. The moment they pulled me out, I tried to crawl back in for my wife. But, the effort was short-lived, there was a lot more of them than there was of me and they held me down to the stretcher and strapped me in. They were doing their job.

I was placed in an ambulance where I was placed in a neck brace and given a shot of morphine. They said they had to take me to Decatur because Portland was full. 

I asked the emergency worker one time. I asked him to shoot me straight about Tiffany. He said it didn't look good. I didn't ask him again. If he knew she was gone, I wasn't going to make him tell me, and I wasn't going to hear it from him.

Decatur wouldn't take me because they were afraid my injuries were too severe. (They weren't) So, they had to take me to Fort Wayne. They asked if I wanted to go to Parkview or Lutheran. I told them I liked the name Lutheran better.

We got to the hospital, they looked me over, and they x-rayed me. A woman came in to get my insurance info and she asked who my emergency contact was, I said, "At this point, I don't know." That's when it really sank in and I began to cry. This woman, who I saw as a vulture preying on me in my time of weakness asking me about insurance and how I plan on paying the bills, looked over her shoulder to see who was around, and then asked if she could pray with me. She didn't have to do that. I'm so thankful she did.

Not long after that, Zach showed up with my friend and mentor pastor, Mark Strietelmeier. Mark took me by the hand and looked me in the eye. I looked him hard in the eye and I said, "You tell me what you know."

He said, "Robert, she's gone." And then he held me as I wept bitterly.

Not long after that, my parents arrived. God love them, they had to drive all the way from Richmond to Fort Wayne in weather that had gotten worse, not knowing what shape they were going to find me in and dealing with the news about Tiffany. We were all devastated.

We lingered in the emergency room long enough to collect ourselves for the drive home. Then we left.

Now you know about that night.