How I Got Hit by a Car and Survived
The other Monday night I left my apartment and walked over to the clubhouse at 6:50 to work out. The clubhouse has a pretty small fitness center and all of its machines were in use, so I decided I could just do my running outside.
It was a pretty balmy January evening by Minnesota standards, but a light snow was falling in big, heavy flakes. I turned west out of my apartment complex and headed down to the Mississippi River. I ran the river trails in a bowl of white, my Petzl headlamp momentarily both aiding and hindering my path, the light building opaque walls of swirling white then tearing them down revealing the way.
After 30 minutes I turned around and made my way back to the apartment. Around 7:45, I came in the north entrance of the property and turned left at the first driveway. I cruised by a long garage and when I neared the end of it, I moved farther out into the road in order to see around its blind corner more easily.
Approaching the same corner perpendicular to my direction was a small car. It came to a stop as I reached the corner. Since I had the right of way, I kept right on going. I was in the center of the car’s hood, and hence completely in the driver’s field of vision, when the car started moving again.
With very little time to react, I jumped as the car struck my right thigh, placed my hands on the hood of the car, and half-vaulted, half-rolled across the passenger’s side of the hood. I landed in the dirty snow of the parking lot shocked, and the car just kept on going.
Not really knowing what to do, I jumped up and shouted as loud as I could, “HEY!”
The taillights flashed as the driver hit the brakes and slowed down. My head was a jumble of thoughts trying to figure out what had just happened—“Did the driver not see me—Had I some how made him think that I was going to wait for him—How could the driver not have see me?”
The person let off the brakes and drove away. Since it appeared as if the person was going to stop I hadn’t even thought of looking at the license plate. I chased after the car for a few strides in a futile attempt to get its license plate number.
I walked the rest of the way home slightly shaken, kind of angry, and completely incredulous. I was just involved in a car-pedestrian hit and run accident.
My wife was gone teaching a piano lesson and having no one else around to tell my story, I picked up the phone and called my mother—“Mom, I just got hit by a car…”
The response was exactly what I was looking for, a sharp gasp, and then, “You were hit by a car! Are you okay?”
Then, of course, I had to tell her I was fine, what had happened, and asked her if I should call the police. I was debating that because I didn’t really have anything to tell them. I didn’t have a license plate number or even a decent description of the car’s color because the lighting was so poor. She said I should call them, so after a little hesitation, I called the station.
It rang twice and then an answering machine picked up, “You have reached the Fridley Police Department. Our office hours are from…” and finally, “if you have an emergency or need to report a crime, please call 9-1-1.” I was thinking, “Great, I get nicked by a car and was on shaky ground to call the police station anyway, and now I’m going to have to call 9-1-1.”
So I did.
“9-1-1 Emergency this is Devon. What is your emergency?”
“I have no emergency, I just need to report a crime.” I explained my story and then Devon told me he would have a police officer stop by and interview me.
This was getting out of hand. I went for a jog, got hit by a car, got knocked to the ground but was unhurt, the car drove away, the police station was closed, I called 9-1-1, and now I was going to be interview by a police officer whom I had very little to tell.
A few minutes later the phone rang and Officer M. was on the line. Since you have to call our apartment in order to be let in, I thought he was at the front door. He explained that he was at an office halfway across town and could conduct the interview by phone.
I took a deep breath and plunged into my story. When I got to the part where I was struck by the car, he stopped me and wanted to know what the driver had said when we exchanged information.
“Well actually officer, that is why I’m calling—we didn’t exchange any information. The guy just drove away.”
“What?! You’ve got to be kidding me. You were hit by a car and then the guy just drove away—like a hit and run?” He was irate.
He asked me quite a few questions and then gave me the report number and case number and then hung up.
And that is how I survived getting hit by a car.
If you’re like me, a lot of strange things have happened in your life. Please, don’t think you’ve seen it all.
It was a pretty balmy January evening by Minnesota standards, but a light snow was falling in big, heavy flakes. I turned west out of my apartment complex and headed down to the Mississippi River. I ran the river trails in a bowl of white, my Petzl headlamp momentarily both aiding and hindering my path, the light building opaque walls of swirling white then tearing them down revealing the way.
After 30 minutes I turned around and made my way back to the apartment. Around 7:45, I came in the north entrance of the property and turned left at the first driveway. I cruised by a long garage and when I neared the end of it, I moved farther out into the road in order to see around its blind corner more easily.
Approaching the same corner perpendicular to my direction was a small car. It came to a stop as I reached the corner. Since I had the right of way, I kept right on going. I was in the center of the car’s hood, and hence completely in the driver’s field of vision, when the car started moving again.
With very little time to react, I jumped as the car struck my right thigh, placed my hands on the hood of the car, and half-vaulted, half-rolled across the passenger’s side of the hood. I landed in the dirty snow of the parking lot shocked, and the car just kept on going.
Not really knowing what to do, I jumped up and shouted as loud as I could, “HEY!”
The taillights flashed as the driver hit the brakes and slowed down. My head was a jumble of thoughts trying to figure out what had just happened—“Did the driver not see me—Had I some how made him think that I was going to wait for him—How could the driver not have see me?”
The person let off the brakes and drove away. Since it appeared as if the person was going to stop I hadn’t even thought of looking at the license plate. I chased after the car for a few strides in a futile attempt to get its license plate number.
I walked the rest of the way home slightly shaken, kind of angry, and completely incredulous. I was just involved in a car-pedestrian hit and run accident.
My wife was gone teaching a piano lesson and having no one else around to tell my story, I picked up the phone and called my mother—“Mom, I just got hit by a car…”
The response was exactly what I was looking for, a sharp gasp, and then, “You were hit by a car! Are you okay?”
Then, of course, I had to tell her I was fine, what had happened, and asked her if I should call the police. I was debating that because I didn’t really have anything to tell them. I didn’t have a license plate number or even a decent description of the car’s color because the lighting was so poor. She said I should call them, so after a little hesitation, I called the station.
It rang twice and then an answering machine picked up, “You have reached the Fridley Police Department. Our office hours are from…” and finally, “if you have an emergency or need to report a crime, please call 9-1-1.” I was thinking, “Great, I get nicked by a car and was on shaky ground to call the police station anyway, and now I’m going to have to call 9-1-1.”
So I did.
“9-1-1 Emergency this is Devon. What is your emergency?”
“I have no emergency, I just need to report a crime.” I explained my story and then Devon told me he would have a police officer stop by and interview me.
This was getting out of hand. I went for a jog, got hit by a car, got knocked to the ground but was unhurt, the car drove away, the police station was closed, I called 9-1-1, and now I was going to be interview by a police officer whom I had very little to tell.
A few minutes later the phone rang and Officer M. was on the line. Since you have to call our apartment in order to be let in, I thought he was at the front door. He explained that he was at an office halfway across town and could conduct the interview by phone.
I took a deep breath and plunged into my story. When I got to the part where I was struck by the car, he stopped me and wanted to know what the driver had said when we exchanged information.
“Well actually officer, that is why I’m calling—we didn’t exchange any information. The guy just drove away.”
“What?! You’ve got to be kidding me. You were hit by a car and then the guy just drove away—like a hit and run?” He was irate.
He asked me quite a few questions and then gave me the report number and case number and then hung up.
And that is how I survived getting hit by a car.
If you’re like me, a lot of strange things have happened in your life. Please, don’t think you’ve seen it all.
posted by Eddy Zakes at 4:33 PM
4 Comments:
Hey Eddy
That was the fridt time I ever read this story. Sounds pretty good. Better I think than when i heard it in person. Keep it up, can't wait to hear your multi part story.
Patti
What you experienced was scary and, yes, infuriating! The person at fault should’ve checked on you to make sure if you’re all right or you needed to be taken to the hospital. It’s sad to know that there are people who run away from their responsibility. Anyway, it’s 2013 and I hope you’re doing great in your life!
Cindie Guevara
It’s indeed a hit and run situation, Eddy. I’m glad that you considered calling the police and reporting the incident. I just hope that you have a fair trial regarding this case. Hit and run is really a serious crime. I know you survived, and I hope the driver was at least sanctioned for his wrong doing.
Thao Canto
It's hard to go after the offender if they run after the accident, but it'll be a lot helpful when you noted their plate number. I know how shocking it is to be involved in an accident, but you have to stay calm, take note of the car's plate number, and seek help from your attorney.
#BlottLaw.com
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