Putting It Into Writing (Warning-This is going to be graphic!)

I've debated putting this into words for a week now. I'm really struggling with it. I've decided that it might be good for me to write about it in hopes of finding some kind of closure. I'm going to warn you however, I plan to go into detail so that I can try to find peace, don't continue reading if you are weak stomached.

Last Sunday, the weather was beautiful, there wasn't a cloud in the sky, although there was a breeze and cool temps, it was a fantastic fall day. I went out to the Osceola Dragway about 11:00 because my brother in law was competing in his final race of the season. I got there in time to see him do one more pass for time trials and then we sat down for lunch.

Shortly after 1 the racing started. We had a mad game of baseball going on back in the "pits." The B-man was in the truck bed as full time batter, G was the pitcher, K was playing outfield and I was catcher. That little man is amazing at baseball, we were having a great time. G said that he was going to go up to the bleachers to watch for a bit before he had to get ready to race. B wanted no part of that, so K and I stayed back and played ball a bit longer. Finally, we were getting a bit bored with it, so we headed up to the bleachers to find G. We hardly ever go up there, as in years past, we've always had the motor home so we hung out there. This year they don't have the motor home, so there's really nothing else to do. We were sitting up there on the 2nd set of bleachers when everything happened.

G was sitting to the right of me, B was on the other side standing, we were second row from the top I think. Kim was sitting with her back to the track, facing us, about 2 or 3 rows down. The motorcycles were racing. Quite a few had gone and we were half watching, half playing. I don't even recall hearing the next racers names as they were in the staging lanes doing their burn outs. I do remember the tragedy of what happened next though.

I remember clearly the motorcycles taking off and looking up when I heard a rumble from the others sitting there in the bleachers before us and ours. I remember clearly thinking that the motorcycle was coming straight at our set of bleachers. I also remember seeing that man hit the guard rail and flipping off his bike. It was a split second (that seemed like it was forever) watching him fly off the bike, glide across the guard rail and flip then fall on our side of the rail in a bloody pile. I remember clearly the blood spurting up onto the rail and flying to the grass not 7 feet from us on the other side. I heard the gasps and the chatter, the crying and the yelling. I heard the announcer say that they needed to get down the lane fast. I grabbed B and we raced down to the fence where he lay across from us, motionless. Other people came running. I will never get rid of the vision of seeing his intestines and the fear that he had been decapitated right in front of me. The track personnel came running and the ambulance was there in a second. I remember them yelling for gloves and a bag.

People immediately started crying and yelling. I remember my sister yelling that she knew CPR. I remember Dave, the county sheriff who K and G are good friends with (who works at the track) saying that someone needed to call 911. I remember passing B to G and dialing. The 911 operator answered and asked where my emergency was. I (pretty calmly I think) gave her the information that there had been a very bad motorcycle accident at the Osceola Drag strip. At that point, Dave, the County Sheriff, was saying to tell her that we needed the Medi-Vac Helicopter. I relayed that information. She immediately told me that I could not make that medical call as I was not a licensed medical professional. I was trying to explain that we had County Sheriff who was there and I was just passing along information, she then said she had to speak to him personally. I was livid. He was practically standing inside a man's chest and she was really questioning it?!?!? We started yelling for him, he began to walk over. He never made it as something else caught his attention. The operator then had the nerve to tell me that I could have legal ramifications if I was prank calling. Are you kidding me?

Someone else at this point had called 911 as well, someone that worked at the track and was with the man. She was nasty so I hung up. At this point, it was clear that he had not survived. They started calling for tarps and blankets. They sectioned off the area in which he lay and asked everyone to back away from the fence and give the emergency medical people do their jobs. He had been cut open nose to navel by the guard rail, with most of his intestines no longer in his chest cavity. The very first responders to the body watched his heart beat (the actual heart) for the last few rhythms. I remember seeing his buddy who had just gotten to the track run down the track to get his bike and then come back over the fence to see his friend one last time. We went back to the pits, mournful, sick to our stomachs, fighting tears for the man, the stranger. I remember seeing the man's wife sit on the bleachers after she had arrived at the track to find out her husband was dead, sitting there surrounded by people, rocking back and forth crying for her loss.

I watched a man die. I watched the most horrific death that I hope to ever see or hear about. I was there. I'm really having a lot of trouble going to sleep at night and not allowing my mind to rerun that over and over. I've not been eating much. I'm trying to figure out my purpose there. I found it interesting that when I was at church on Wednesday, Dr. Bob said said something about the fact that God doesn't give us pain for no reason. My prayer all week has been that soon the purpose of my witnessing that accident is clear and that I may find peace in it.

I'm praying for the family who lost that man on Sunday. I'm praying for the track personnel who were there and did everything they could in the face of that tragedy. I'm praying for the people who were yelling at them because they weren't administering CPR, as they knew it was to late. (It was later confirmed by the Coroner that his neck had been broken and he would have not survived with any sort of life saving measure...) I'm praying for the mean people who have been saying slanderous things towards the Drag Strip and workers on the Internet. I'm praying.