I had a heroic moment while driving with a group of reckless individuals.
It was my senior year of high school and we were in a four-car convoy on Interstate 70 in Missouri, heading to a speech tournament. The teacher/coach was leading the way in a packed Pontiac 3-seat station wagon with 9 students. I was behind in my reliable Rambler Classic with 5 other students, followed by two other cars filled with teenagers.
We were about halfway through our 250-mile journey, cruising in the left lane at a steady 85 mph through corn country. The two trailing cars were engaging in dangerous maneuvers, passing and cutting each other off by using the shoulder.
Not wanting to be a part of their recklessness, I decided to move closer to the lead wagon, creating some distance to prevent them from cutting me off. This meant I was about two car lengths behind the wagon, which was too close, but since we were maintaining a steady 85 mph, I didn’t think it was a big deal.
That was until a semi-truck suddenly cut off the wagon while passing a truck going only 55 mph. Both trucks hit the brakes immediately.
The wagon slammed on the brakes, so I also hit mine to stabilize my car, then looked to the left shoulder, which had vanished. We were rapidly approaching the car in front, and the passengers in the back seats of the wagon, who were facing us, had expressions of total shock as the wagon’s tail lifted and my car was hurdling towards them.
I quickly glanced to the right and noticed an incredibly narrow gap between the back of the slower semi-truck and the car behind it. I released the brake and skillfully maneuvered my car into a controlled slide across the right lane. I then straightened the car on the shoulder and brought it to a stop, aligning it with the cab of the right-lane truck.
At that moment, I realized that both trucks were stuck in a standstill with traffic ahead. It was purely luck and a desperate but decisive action that prevented a disastrous collision. The other three cars in the convoy managed to stop behind the left-lane semi-truck, and miraculously, no one crashed into each other. The only minor injury was when my right-front passenger hit his head on the window as I straightened the car on the shoulder.
Once the initial shock passed, we resumed driving. The trucker in the right lane waved me into his lane and gave me a thumbs up for my driving skills. After the convoy regrouped at the end of the small traffic jam, we all slowed down and maintained appropriate distances.
When we finally arrived in Kansas City, the coach put his arm around my shoulder, took me aside from the team, and uttered his first and only curse word in my presence. “You saved us back there. Great driving,” he said before walking away.
Although my driving played a part, I believe it was nothing short of divine intervention that saved us that day.