So a news story caught my attention today because it mentioned a deadly occurrence on a desert highway in California. Such distant troubles usually don't muster my attention, but the mention of a specific location -- Antelope Valley -- caused a double take that had me hitting rewind on the DVR.
Sure enough, a sandstorm caused a series of accidents on a highway near Lancaster, Calif., killing two people and injuring scores. Different way to die, yes, but not why I was interested. Actually, I had driven that stretch of road just a few months ago.
I was on my way to Edwards Air Force Base to see a special airplane. I made the trip at least twice during my visit and marveled at the hot, dry Mojave as I cruised comfortably in my rental car. At that time, a fire raged on a far mountain that had been on the local news. It was known as the "white fire" because of it's smoke but it was the bastard fire even at the time because a series of wildfires in Palm Springs were getting national attention. I took a picture nonetheless, from the same highway where the crash today occurred, only I was not caught in a sandstorm that limited visibility to the point of zero.
There's a relevance in life that revolves around the experiential. I'm sure there's an actual psychological term for it -- I'm just not a pyschologist. But what I mean is the awareness we have of places we've been and things we've done. For example, when you buy a new car, you suddenly see a lot more cars like that on the road. It's not that they weren't there - but you didn't pay attention to them until you had experienced one. Same for places. If you read USA Today, you might notice the state-by-state index of brief stories, usually one from each state. I find myself only reading about the states I've lived in, and then if I'm traveling, the state I happen to be in.
So it's all relevant I suppose. My father, who drove trucks all around the lower 48 and parts of Canada, taught me a lesson about the relevance of matters in the news. When the national news was full of headlines about a major calamity in a far-away state, be it wildfires, flooding, blizzard, the reality of it was usually much more localized than the news coverage would have you believe. I might mention seeing that California was having outrageous wildfires and he'd describe how they were really fairly remote from most of the population and while it was destroying hundreds of thousands of acres, what the news failed to mention was that there wasn't much on those acres to speak of.
I later experienced some of that myself as I'd notice how reports of snowfall in Texas would get overblown on the national news or a flood in one area might make life difficult for part of a city, but the rest of town carried on like nothing ever happened.
So when I heard about the California accident, I thought, wow, that's kinda weird. I've been on that highway, in that location, and can only imagine how it must have been to not be able to see in front of you.
But even weirder, a story about today's event mentioned another crash just a few weeks ago where a major pileup occurred in a tunnel. This story mentioned how the previous crash was southwest of where this one occurred and wasn't that far.
I remembered hearing and seeing that story, which was about a tunnel specifically for truck traffic had a major pileup that claimed several lives. I had heard it was on the major artery between LA and San Francisco and then thought that must have been north of where I'd been. Or so I thought.
Today's story made me go back and look. The other accident actually occurred near an intersection of highways that was on my route back to the airport in Burbank. Spooky got spookier.
Made me stop for a minute and think how privileged we are to wander this Earth haphazardly at times and escape unharmed. We take that for granted so often.
My best friend had a near-death experience last year. I remember his attitude shortly after that - it was almost a carpe diem. He decided to go out and buy the truck he'd been wanting because, well, he never knew what might happen to him tomorrow. Reminded me further of a sermon I heard in high school from my favorite pastor who explained that the Epicurian motto of "Eat, Drink and Be Merry" was rooted in the Bible verse that also ended with "For Tomorrow You Shall Die."
I, too, bought a truck recently. But it didn't have anything to do with these accidents, my trip to California, or any other sense of doom. I did think of my friend when I finally succombed to the new car fever that had lingered for months. But perhaps I just had my experiences out of order. Not quite a near-death experience. More a vicinity-of-death experience.
Lately, I've had some very challenging things make life tough. But I've had just as many very precious experiences with my children in between the stresses of life. That's what it's about I suppose. To bury those little things that happen in the course of a day within my memory will someday return in a flash of relevance.
That, I conclude, is what this is really all about: the little inconsequential joys of life that, when you die, will have made it all worth it.
