Second Birthday

(Warning: Graphic description of a accident below)

When I was 13 years old, I was walking to school on a foggy Southern California February Morning...I was happy, I loved my outfit for the day (red GUESS? mini skirt, red and white "crop" top, Jordache acid washed denim jacket...and white go-g0 boots. Man, I was stylin...)...I was excited that we were starting Gymnastics that day in Gym Class. Every day I walked to my friend Laura's house, met her, then we walked the rest of the way to school together. I always left early because then I could hang with her while she got ready for school, sometimes she'd curl my hair or help me with makeup.

The route to Laura's house was not actually the route my Mom wanted me to take to school, but I didn't tell her I was going this way. On February 28th, 1990, I was crossing Sawyer Avenue (a side street off a very busy street) when a white, Volkswagen Rabbit sped around the corner, and hit me.

The bumper hit me hard in the lower left leg...I flew up in the air, hit the windshield with my face (splitting the skin on my nose)...I ended up behind the car after she stopped.

I don't know if I was out (I remember the sensation of being hit, of rolling and rolling over) for long, but I woke up in the worst pain of my life, lying in the road. I could see the blood all over my jacket (which was the last gift my Grammy had given me before she died the year before). I could hear people shouting. Two girls from my school had been walking about 1/2 a block behind me and saw the whole thing, one stayed by me and one ran to the nearby 7-11 to have them call an ambulance. The one near me called to some construction workers across the street and they cane over, assured me I would be okay, and covered me with their coats. I still can remember their faces, so kind.

The lady who had hit me was standing next to her car, crying, and wailing "my caaar!!! MY CAR!" and I totally remember being pissed off about that. The cashier from 7-11 came out to see how I was and asked me my name, and my parents names. I was able to rattle off all of the info including my Mom's work phone #.

First the Firefighters came, and they were nice. The Paramedics came, and cut off my jacket (and I fought them, as hurt as I was) but they did it anyway. I was roughly taped to a board and loaded into the ambulance.

I had broken my leg badly in two places, and would need plastic surgery for fix my face. I was bruised from head to toe, with road rash. My Mom finally came, and the Doctor came in to tell us - when I was hit, I put my arms over my head. That fact and the fact that I was wearing a thick denim jacket saved my life. My Grammy was my Angel. That accident could have killed me, but I was alive.

There's more to this story, but every year, we celebrate my "Second Birthday" on February 28th. It's not a big deal, but I am happy to be alive.

Last Spring, I went back to my home town to visit a friend, and she snapped these photos of my at the accident site, something I wasn't able to do for 22 years. I got past it - it was a long road to feel right after that, and sometimes I blame my weight gain on this event...

(Warning: Graphic description of a accident below)