We're Alive. We Survived. We Were Rescued.

Not to sound too melodramatic, but we're lucky to be posting this.  We're lucky to be alive.

Last night, driving home from work, southbound on Interstate I-85, approaching the notorious interchange with the Perimeter Highway I-285, an intersection known to almost everyone in Atlanta as "spaghetti junction," our left rear tire suddenly blew out.  As the tire disintegrated, one or more of the shards of rubber managed to rupture the brake line, so we were suddenly also without brakes.

This happened as we, along with all of the other traffic, were zooming along at well over 70 mph. Because we were approaching spaghetti junction, we had moved over toward the left lanes, where traffic moves even faster, to avoid the backed-up line of cars in the right lanes that were exiting 85 for I-285.  And then suddenly we were riding on our rim and had no brakes.

Fortunately, the cars behind us saw what happened and fell a few extra lengths behind us, and didn't rear-end us or otherwise collide with our suddenly disabled vehicle. But between all of the other traffic as well as the backed up line of cars trying to exit the highway, we couldn't pull over to the right to get off the road, and instead drifted to the left and eventually stopped along the left-side median.

Except it wasn't a median.  It was the HOV lane, separated from the opposite, northbound lane by a concrete Jersey barrier.  Our car was broke down in the ultra-high speed HOV lane and we couldn't get over to safety.  We just had to rely on the on-coming traffic seeing that we weren't moving in time to move over and pass us on the right. 

We put our blinkers on and called 911, and the dispatcher told us to sit tight and wait for a rescue vehicle to arrive.  So we hung up and waited.  And waited.  And waited.

We spent what seemed like the longest 15 minutes of our life stuck there like a sitting duck, watching with horror through our rear-view mirror as car after car came hurtling toward us and swerved just in time to avoid hitting us.  Occasionally, the cars couldn't get over quick enough to pass us because of other traffic in the next lane, but fortunately they were able to come to a stop before colliding with us.  We probably felt safest when there was at least one car behind us, because that one car would absorb the initial blow if the next car didn't see them in time.

After 15 minutes, we called 911 again, and said we're gonna die here if someone doesn't come along soon.  We were told that help was on its way, there was nothing more they could do, and so we waited some more.

Given enough time, one car would eventually fail to notice us in time, or not get over quick enough, and sooner or later we would get hit.  It was just a matter of time.  Not if, but when.  Plus it was starting to get dark, which wasn't improving our prospects any.  But after another infernally slow 10 more minutes, we saw a minor miracle in the rear-view mirror: the traffic had stopped and suddenly no more cars were coming.  After a moment or two, we saw why: a group of multiple emergency responders had formed a phalanx of rescue vans and ambulances, creating a slow-moving wall across the lanes of traffic and keeping the rush-hour traffic behind them.  After 25 minutes of sitting there wondering which of the many on-coming cars was going to kill us, our rescue had finally appeared.  

With the traffic behind us stopped, they ordered us to drive over to the right median where it was safer.  We did, cringing the whole way at the sound of the rim grinding against asphalt, and used the emergency brake to stop.  The rescue squad jacked up the car and replaced the blown-out tire with the spare, gave us the phone number of a towing company, and then took off, leaving us still shaken but in a much safer location, and with at least four working wheels if no brakes.

However, the towing company we called said they were too busy and couldn't help us, and gave us the number of another firm.  That other firm was also too busy, or not interested, or whatever, and told us to try a third firm.  It wasn't until we got to literally the seventh firm before we were offered any help.  The seventh firm couldn't tow us just then either, but they at least offered to come out and follow us in a van with the flashers on so we could drive off the highway and park the car in a safe spot so they could tow it in the morning. 

After another 30-minute wait, they showed up and we drove on the spare tire but with no brakes about a half mile to the next exit, riding mostly in the breakdown lane/left median, and rolled into a Quick Trip gas station and managed to park the car.  We exchanged our car keys for a business card and a promise to tow the car in the morning, and we took an Uber car home from there.

We survived!  Given enough additional time broken down out there in the HOV lane, we would surely have been hit, and while we might have survived the collision, grievous bodily harm would have been inevitable.   Whatever damage had occurred to our car seemed trivial in comparison to what could have been.

We filed a claim with our insurance company this morning, and they in turn had Enterprise come by to pick us up and rent us a car (pictured above) for the duration of the repair.  The towing company was true to their word and this morning took the car over to the dealer, where it's still waiting on an evaluation and assessment of the damages.  

But we're alive.  We survived.  We were rescued. That's more important than the condition of our car.

Impermanence is swift, and life and death is the great matter.  What was here today is gone tomorrow, and that includes our left rear tire, but apparently not our life, at least not yet.