On my way to work this morning the car directly in front of me was hit head on by a truck that crossed the median. I stopped in time to not crash into the car from behind.

I pulled over, off the road, and dialed 911 on my cell phone. As I reported the accident, people from other cars jumped out and ran to see how they could help.

The car that had just been a short distance in front of me was now stuck inside the front of the truck. It was as though the truck had swallowed the car. No one could open doors. No one was getting out. No one was able to get in to help.

The 911 operator asked me if there was a fire. "No fire, but no one is getting out. No one is able to get to the drivers to help them."

The horns of the truck and car were honking loudly, people were trying to direct traffic around the accident. Others were trying with all their energy to help the people inside the vehicles and the sirens were blaring as they hurried to the scene. All this commotion and noise and yet it seemed that the world was completely silent.

I gave my name and number to the police officer and was directed to go on my way to make room for the emergency vehicles. As I drove away, I looked in my rearview mirror. Praying that the people involved would miraculously survive unhurt. I gave thanks that I had stopped in time, that I hadn't added to the accident. I feel guilty that I feel glad that it wasn't me. In only the blink of an eye, one small moment difference and the car in front would have driven on and I would have been the one who they were trying to extract.

None of the work I have to accomplish today, none of the "have tos" on my to do list seem important. My thoughts and prayers remain with the unknown drivers, passengers and families of the people whose lives were forever changed in an instant, right before my eyes.

Link to story in St. Pete Times.