Sunday, March 21, 2010

Seeing red...camaros that is.

Memoir Monday: The time a camaro crashed into our house.

I was about to start my junior year of college and was still living at my parents' house along with my older brother. We were both working and trying to find our feet at the time.
That's not important to the story. I just wanted you to know we weren't pot smoking losers sitting on our asses watching cartoons and taking advantage of our parents' kindness. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
On with the story...
Our house is a 2 story house with the kitchen, dining room and little grocery/country store (which was now closed but not emptied) downstairs. The living room, 3 bedrooms and bathroom were all upstairs. My bedroom was in the front of the house. My parents and my brother had rooms in the back.
It was about 4am and we were all tucked in our respective rooms, sleeping soundly. All of a sudden, I was awakened by this horribly loud crash followed by complete, eerie silence. I reached up to turn on my light but it remained dark. Total darkness and a still quiet like I've never known. There was no sound. Nothing outside. Nothing inside. Nothing.
I was immediately frightened. I knew something was wrong. I just didn't know what.
I got out of bed and tried some more lights, but nothing was coming on. I went into my parents' room to wake them. My Dad said it was just thunder and told me to go back to bed. I knew it wasn't thunder. I made him get up. I was not going downstairs alone.
In the process of freaking out, I managed to wake my Mom and Bro along with my Dad. They all tried to make me go back to bed, but I couldn't.
Dad finally gave in and agreed to go downstairs with me. His goal was to replace the fuse so the power would come back on. My goal was to not leave his side because I was terrified of what we'd find down there. I don't think I've ever been so nervous and afraid.
As we walk downstairs, we approach the front door which is directly at the bottom of the stairs. The fuse box is to the left of the door. My Dad starts to fiddle with the fuses but is having no success. He now has to go outside to check the main breaker.
Something still feels wrong.
He opens the door and I see debris. He tries to open the screen door but it meets resistance and only opens a few inches. It keeps hitting something red. It's still dark and we are not quite sure what we are seeing. It takes a few minutes for it to register. The something red is a car. A freakin car!
My Dad goes to the phone to call 911 and I am left standing at the front door. I am in shock. Complete and utter shock. If it had been cool to say it, I would have been saying wtf. Wtf. Omfg. Wtf!
Out of nowhere, a face appears in the door. It is a man. He has long scraggly hair and a beard and his face is just on the other side of the glass. I scream and slam the door, retreating upstairs in fear. I grab my brother and drag him downstairs with me.
It is then that the silence is broken. We hear screaming, and it isn't me. Someone else was in the car and they are screaming and crying.
Then, somehow the ambulance has arrived along with the police and the screaming person is inside the house with all of them. She keeps screaming and she won't shut up. Screaming and screaming. I just want her to shut up! She keeps screaming and then her friend is asking someone to turn the lights on.
Are you freakin kidding me?! Turn the lights on?! You just effing crashed into our breaker box, dipshits! Why don't you go back in time and swerve if you want some effing lights!! Tell your stupid girlfriend to shut the hell up while you're at it. The emt already said she has a scratch on her ear. An effin scratch on her ear! Shut her the hell up or she's going to have some real injuries!
Dammit, I need to get the hell out of here. I'm about to explode.
I walk out the back door and the cool air hits me, refreshing me. I take a deep breath and walk to the front of the house. That's when I see the extent of the damage.
It takes all my strength to keep it together.
The car is a camaro and it is wedged into the cinderblock wall of what used to be our front porch. The camaro sized hole in the wall allows me to see inside what used to be the store. On the other side of the cinderblock wall there was an ice cream freezer. It is approximately the width of a car (handy to have that reference tool readily available) and used to contain ten gallon tubs of ice cream that we scooped out for our sweet toothed customers.
This freezer, which weighs a ton has been propelled across the entire length of the house. That's how hard the camaro hit. The freezer took everything in its path and all the debris is now piled up against the opposite wall. This impact occurred directly under my bed. That's why I felt it more than anyone.
I hear the police officers saying that the driver had tried to back out and I feel the anger rising. I step away from the camaro out into the street. It's here that I begin to get the full picture. It appears that the camaro had come flying down the road. You can see the initial impact where the camaro swerved into the line of hedges that spanned the length of about a quarter acre between our house and our neighbors'. That line of hedges had been there for at least 20 years. Now, it was mangled. The damage started on the neighbor's end and continued, becoming worse as it neared our house.
Then the camaro knocked down the mailbox, knocked over the telephone pole that held our security light (yes, a telephone pole - think giant wooden log-like pole about 12 inches in diameter), crashed through the beam that once supported our front porch roof and into the cinderblock wall. But, that's not all. In the process of doing all of this, the camaro also managed to rear end my car which was parked in front of the house. My car was smashed into the back of my brother's truck which was parked in front of it. My car was totaled. His truck was pretty smashed up.
I lose it. I just completely lose it. I had to go back upstairs and hide until everyone had gone. I just couldn't hold it together.
We spent the next several days cleaning up debris and trying to assess the damage. We found many empty liquor bottles thrown around the yard. I guess the driver thought no one would notice. You know, because we always keep economy size bottles of vodka in the ditch beside the house. Who doesn't?
I managed to go to my first class of the semester later that morning. I think I was still in shock. They asked everyone to say a little something about themselves and I couldn't think of anything to say. Should my first impression be: "Hi, I'm a capricorn, I like puppies and a drunk driver just crashed into my house a few hours ago." It didn't seem like the kind of thing to share. So, I held it in, which is totally healthy. I didn't sleep for months and I was just irritable all the time.
One of the girls who was in the car came by the house a couple days after the accident. She was parked in front of our house taking pictures of the scene. I ran out of the house full of rage. "What the fuck do you think you're doing? Huh? You think this is funny? You think this is cute? You proud of yourself? Who the fuck do you think you are?"
I was quickly interrupted by Mom who made me go inside. I guess she didn't like me dropping eff bombs at the little bitch who needed to be put in her place.
I'm still angry to this day and I wish I had punched that girl right in the face. Stupid mothers and their rational behavior.
Anyway, the house has since been fixed. The guy was not insured so my parents had to eat most of the cost. The guy was charged with drunk driving but released. He was then charged with 2 more drunk driving incidents before his mother was killed by a drunk driver. Karma is a bitch. It's a shame that his mother had to suffer for his wrongs.
So, kids - please think twice before drinking and driving. And if anyone ever crashes into your house and then acts like a self righteous jackass, please punch them in the face. You will regret it if you don't. Trust me.


  1. How you didn't post pictures of this is beyond me.

    And for sure, the fact that they tried to LEAVE THE SCENE OF THE CRIME, shows what morons they were.

  2. It happened in 1996, way before I had a digital camera. If I am able to find some pics and scan them, I will put some up.

  3. Wow. That's crazy and warrants more than just a punch in the face. Bitch (not you).


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