There have been a couple of nasty snarls on I-5 north during the past two days. Yesterday morning's rush-hour accident spilled a load of hay in the Terwilliger curves. Today's accident (no link yet) featured an enormous steel girder blocking the freeway near Wilsonville. And then there was my little fender bender.

I took the van this morning. I had large samples to deliver to three different customers, samples that wouldn't fit in my car.

As I drove, I ruminated on life. I thought about how we've known Mac and Pam for nearly five years now. And this reminded me that it has been just over four years since my scary accident in Wilsonville. Yesterday was my car's fourth birthday.

That accident occurred on a dark and frosty winter December first, just as I was passing Wilsonville. A truck changed into my lane, sideswiping my car, sending it headlong into the guardrail at fifty-five miles per hour. The airbag deployed and my car spun round. I was dazed and confused for a bit after the accident, but otherwise unharmed. (Though I did lose my beloved Geo Storm, which was totalled.)

I was meditating on this accident, recalling the sureal cloud of grey in the car and the complete disorientation I felt in the moments after impact, when I realized that traffic in the here and now was no longer just slow — it had stopped.

I slammed on my brakes, then breathed a sigh of relief as the van slid to a halt mere feet from the rear of the car in front of me.

And then I looked in the mirror.

Behind me, coming on fast, was a green SUV. I braced for impact: hands firmly on the steering wheel, foot pushing the brake pedal to the floor.

BANG!

I pulled to the shoulder, got out of the van, and surveyed the wreckage. Both vehicles had extensive damage to their bumpers, and the green SUV had some shattered headlights, but that was it.

The other driver — a nice, apologetic woman — was a bit shaken, but otherwise unharmed. My hands were trembling, too, as we exchanged information. This was her first accident, and she felt horrible. I tried to be reassuring, to let her know this collision was rather minor.

A further survey of the damage revealed that a part of the van's bumper has been forced upward, preventing one of the rear doors from opening. (Though I don't believe the door itself was damaged.) We'll need to get that fixed right away; the van's kind of useless if we can't load things into it.

I learned two things from this accident.

First, tow trucks haunt the freeways like vultures on rainy mornings, ready to swoop for carrion cars in an instant. We had a tow truck driver with us literally the moment we pulled off the road. It was eerie. Several other tow trucks passed us, the drivers eyeing ours with unconcealed jealousy.

Second, I oughtn't wish for "little disasters". I'm liable to get what I've wished for. (Maybe I should wish for a "little windfall" instead.)

The only accident with The Cinnamon Bear involves a silver star:

Episode #11: "Fee Foe, the Gentle Giant" (09 December 1937) — Fee Foe, the Gentle Giant shows Judy and Jimmy the Goody-Goody Grove and invites them for lunch. They start to follow Crazy Quilt when it suddenly gets very, very dark!

Will Judy and Jimmy and the Cinnamon Bear never get the star?

On this day at foldedspace.org

2003 — Sinead O'Connor   If there were one person on this earth that might bring me to believe in the divine, it would be Sinead O'Connor and it would be through her voice.

2002 — Daniel Roth   Daniel Roth was the oldest of the Joseph Roth children. He came to Oregon with a companion, Christian Nofziger, in the year 1889, several years in advance of his parents and other members of his family