Surviving a Head On Collision

The sports car began to fishtail. As we waited for its driver to regain control, it quickly became apparent that we were headed towards the inevitable. I braced for impact. Soon, it would be done. Our time had come. Then everything stopped. The crash of metal to metal held me in its terrifying grip. The stillness of the moment gave rise to the muffled cries from the back, telling me that our boys were alive.

The day had begun like any other. It was a chilly, windy winter's day. On this particular Saturday morning, however, dressing the boys, ages two and three, would require more than the usual. A scarf wrapped snugly around the outside of each of their hooded winter jackets and tucked carefully inside, for safety sake, would help  keep out the chill of that frosty winter's day. As the boys walked towards the car, they seemed like miniature robots, moving in rigid, synchronized fashion through the snow.

A visit to the auto body shop, the next day, would tell the story, of our near miss with death. The vehicle we had been in yesterday, when we left home, was now an almost unrecognizable mass of metal from the front windshield down to the bumper. ... What seemed untouched was the body of the car where we had been seated, a day earlier. .. A pair of glasses, my husband had been wearing, had been smashed into bits. A briefcase, stored in the trunk of our sedan, fell apart when touched. We realized at that moment how close we had come. Had we not been in that car, not been belted, our injuries would have been catastrophic. It was February, 1982. When it was obvious that black ice (ice that is almost invisible on paved roads) seemed everywhere, we had decided to return home. Then the accident happened.

The car we were driving was a Peugeot sedan, a used vehicle we'd had for 6 years. Its crumple zone had saved us all from serious injury. ...Our car was now a mangled mess, a far cry from a simple dented front end I had envisioned, while seated inside, waiting for the ambulance to arrive, that morning. I mourned the loss of an incredible car but not the people inside it. We had been spared the ultimate atrocity!

Our injuries were few. Our boys, with no physical injuries, had  been spared whiplash. They had been strapped, securely, in their 'child' made seats, and anchored snugly, at the neck, by the last minute addition of a scarf for added protection from the harshness of the winter's day.(The weakest part on a child's young body is at the neck) ... Chest pains, lasting months and a grapefruit sized bruise, appearing days later on my left knee, the result of hitting the console beside me, were the only injuries, proof of the adage, 'Seatbelts saves lives'. ... I shuddered to think what might have been without these life saving restraints. ... The force of two cars hitting head on is the result of the combined speeds of the two, coming together, then stopping in an instant. How different the outcome could have been for the five of us. ...( I was expecting our third child, I learned later.)


We had purchased a used Peugeot wagon, in 1971, on the recommendation of a friend from England, who had suggested either a French made Peugeot, or a Swedish made Volvo, well known for their superb safety record. Years later, it was another Peugeot, this time, the sedan, purchased from our mechanic, that would protect us all from serious harm in 1982.

There are many brands of well built vehicles, both domestic and 'foreign', on the market today, with incredible safety features built into them. Choice is limitless. The knowledge accrued since that fateful day in February, four decades ago, has also changed what we drive today. My husband adheres to a line he lives by in his professional career as a leading expert in the creditor auto insurance field, a line he has made famous, “The cheapest thing you put in a car is the gas!”