4 Times I Almost Died

Life is full of close calls.

For some people more than others, of course.

Me, I’ve never been what you’d call a Big Risk Taker. I don’t bungee jump (is that still a thing?), or skydive, or walk across a street while staring at my smartphone.

No, I’ve lived my life in a reasonably safe and sane way – hey, how did you think I got to be this old?

But I’ve had some close calls. Times when I could easily have died.

Game over. Lights out. Sayonara, baby.

I can think of four times over the course of my life that could have resulted in me not being here writing about them right now.

The first time was when I was about 19 and driving my Mom’s big old red station wagon to work. It was a Winter day, but a sunny early morning as I recall. In fact, the morning sunshine was so bright it prevented me from noticing the ice on the highway as I approached a local death zone known as Turkey Ranch Hill.

As I started to descend the hill, I noticed my car beginning to swerve. My attempt to compensate resulted in the wagon doing a complete 360 right in the middle of the road. Luckily (Thank you, God), there were no other vehicles coming either way.

And somehow I didn’t slide off the road. No, just little-old-new-driver-me sitting there trying to shake it off. I don’t recall what happened after that, whether I went on to work or went home to climb back into my safe bed.

The second time I almost died was when I was in my mid-20s, visiting a friend of mine who lived on a farm. He asked me if I wanted to drive his tractor down to the field and – having some experience with tractors (but not enough) – I climbed on and headed down his gravel driveway.

The driveway ended in a T intersection with a cornfield at the end. The tractor was picking up speed as I approached, and when I went to apply the brake I couldn’t immediately find it on this unfamiliar model.

I could hear my friend frantically yelling as he ran behind me, and – miraculously – I found the brake and was able to steer the tractor to a halt just yards from the T, the ditch and the cornfield.

Holy crap!

But that wasn’t the end of it. Feeling confident again, I drove the tractor into the field, which had a hidden incline I wasn’t familiar with. Slowly, the tractor began to lean precipitously to the right, and my friend and I had to jump off just before it tipped over.

Holy crap, part 2!

My friend never asked me to drive his tractor again after that -- although I’m not sure why.

My third brush with the Grim Reaper was in Hawaii – Honolulu, to be exact. I was swimming in Waikiki Beach bay when I heard shouting coming from behind me.

I turned to see an outrigger canoe -- full of hard-paddling tourists -- coming straight at me.

I ducked down into the water just in time to look up and see the massive canoe pass directly over my head.

Mama Mia!

My fourth very close call was while rafting with a group on the Delores River in Colorado. The water that day was running high – too high – but everyone felt confident that it would be fine.

Then, with a huge rock outcropping just ahead jutting out into the right side of the river, I discovered the current was running too fast to paddle left and avoid it.

I almost made it – but not quite.

My rubber raft hit the rock wall and the onrushing current behind me pushed me down into the deep river. I could have been mashed against the wall and held there, but somehow the river pushed me to the left and around the wall and back to the surface.

A couple of rafters went to the hospital that day, but everyone survived.

I don’t know if more close calls lie ahead. Probably not, because – as I said – I’m not a Big Risk Taker.

But you never know.