Saturday, March 26, 2016
Valentine said I calmly warned him, "Look out for that."
With an absolute steady hand and mind Valentine maneuvers around the vehicle that is flying through the air and across the interstate at interstate speeds on three wheels and a disk that is glowing hot lava red and shooting flames. Their truck sporadically wobbles, zooming from each lane as their driver's side tire and rim projectiles across the air directly at us. The Tahoe's tire hits us like a 21st century cannon ball, melting the plastic of the front fender and ripping off the passenger's fender flare. In less time than it takes to blink the tire rolls up the hood, impacting and scraping the hood in front of me. The tire and debris grazes the passenger side view mirror to a chorus of eff-bombs.
The child in the backseat is jolted awake, "What?!"
"Are you okay?"
"Yes, what happened?"
Valentine pulls onto the emergency shoulder. Dazed, she hops out of the Jeep into the grass on the side of the interstate. That is one helluva way to be woken up.
Valentine checks on the couple, who don't get out of their car. I call the Mississippi State Troopers.
The driver couldn't get out of the car. The entire side panel had buckled.
I walk back to check on the people. The Tahoe couple, who are also from Memphis, apologize profusely. The state troops arrive and call the police.
We call the older kids, who went home hours before we did, and my parents. The police arrive, take names and write reports. They send us away to Wal-mart for zip-ties and bungee cords to tie the hood down.
As I'm walking into Wal-mart, mainly to check for skid-marks in my panties because this literally scared the crap outta me, I can't help but to be so grateful that Valentine was incredibly quick and calm. If he had not of been on top of the situation that modern cannon ball would have hit the windshield and without a doubt killed us.