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What To Do When A Semi-Truck Is Heading Your Way

Posted on November 23, 2015December 10, 2023 by Paul

And so there I was, driving down the freeway on a clear moon lit night, when all the sudden someone tried to kill me.

For all intents and purposes, without the mercy of God, I would have died that night - might should have - but I'm alive and well. And this happened several years ago.

I was going to see my girlfriend in California.

Driving cross country.

My small pick up truck was loaded down with the last remaining possessions I still had left in my "former" home of Florida.

It was Christmas time and I was on a schedule.

I had to make a school play. December 22. The little girl, her little girl who could have just as well been mine by how much I loved her, was going to perform.

I like schedules. Even if they are tight.

--

I was driving down the freeway. 10 pm. Freezing cold but nice out. No one on the freeway but me and the man who tried to kill me.

At the time I'm sure he didn't really want to kill me, but what do I know about how his day was going?

We were on I-40 in the middle of West Texas. Clear night. Beautiful night.

And then the driver of the semi did something ... strange.

I was following behind him a short distance. Maybe 600 yards. We were going down a slight hill.

It wasn't even a mountain - just a small hill.

His truck did a little side to side jig.

I thought, "wake up buddy, I'm following you".

He taps breaks.

I tap breaks. I can't break.

Then, it happened.

He lost control.

Black ice.

His semi started swerving side to side on that two lane highway like a fish swims on a hook. He was fighting to keep his truck on the road.

I let off what little gas I was giving my truck. Why waste gas when you're going downhill anyhow?

This guy was swerving. I was on the phone giving a play by play to my girl friend back in California.

Side to side he went. He was barely hanging on to his big rig.

He jack-knifed.

I was less than 40 yards away I guess, with no way to stop and nothing to do but ride the center of the lane - and I was looking right at him.

I was going to die. He was going to kill me.

But then he slid back in the slow lane. Then over to the road. It was over!

But it wasn't.

--

He hadn't come to a stop, and neither had I.

And at just the moment I was getting near his back bumper, he started sliding across the entire road. Nose first. Heading toward me.

I was thinking, "what are you doing?!" - but he had no control.

With 10 yards between us I moved to the inside - off the road, into the grass - put the truck in 3rd gear and punched it like a NASCAR driver leaving the starting line.

I looked over and then back as the nose of his semi, still traveling fast, narrowly missed the back end of my truck.

I lost control. Started spinning in the middle of the road.

New cars and trucks were coming down the hill.

Had he hit me I would have flipped a thousand times because my truck bed was loaded down with stuff. Everything I owned would be in the median. Sprawled out everywhere for the world to see.

He went into the median. Almost flipped his rig. But settled in the center.

Somehow my truck gained composure (it wasn't anything I did - the thing was out of control) and slid to the outside lane.

Then it was over. I was alive. I was going to make it to California.

--

I ended up at the bottom of an off ramp.

At the top of that off ramp was a small town. McLean, TX. Tiny.

I slipped and slid around that town for a no more than 5 minutes before deciding to park in a church parking lot (First Baptist on First St - crazy what you remember after a near death) and ride out the night in the truck.

The next day, when the sun was up, I started on my way again.

The freeway was lined with accidents.

Countless motor homes and Semis were in the median. Many flipped over.

All were mangled and completely destroyed.

Tens of thousands in merchandise, Christmas stock, was sprawled out all over the roads.

For miles and miles it was like a bomb went off followed by a tornado.

--

I did a lot of praying in those 43 seconds of terror. That's what you do when a semi is coming at you.

Whether it's a 'real' semi as this was, or just life - bills, kids, stress, health - anything that currently is, or can, negatively affect your life - Pray.

The mercies of God are amazing at times.

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    Open Doors and Opportunity – it’s what we wake up each day hoping to find.

    We need Open Doors and Opportunity in order to move forward, become healthier, and live better lives.

    Spiritual, emotional, physical, and financial improvements can only come from finding and using Open Doors and Opportunity to your advantage … (more)

    Welcome to Open Doors and Opportunity!

    My name is Paul and I’m the owner of this blog.

    The picture of me above was taken by a very famous photographer who has also photographed Presidents of the United States, numerous celebrity actors and various sports professionals, as well as other business professionals like myself.

    I was supposed to have a feature article written about what a great marketing professional I was in GQ Magazine, or Fortune Magazine, or Forbes, or Playboy … one of those … but then, things went sideways.

    Really sideways.

    The article was never written, the photo was never used anywhere, I was fired from the job that made that photo possible, I lost my home and ended up traveling all over in my pick-up truck (known as Unit #4)  and staying in various Wal-Mart parking lots (what I like to call the Wal-Mart Condo Association) for 2 years.

    In the meantime, I’ve done everything. I’ve been a partner in the largest nightclub in SWFL, written songs with Grammy Winners in the Songwriter Hall of Fame, started as a public relations grunt and worked my way to Chief Marketing Officer of a restaurant group, and much, much, much more and many things.

    It’s been a crazy life – with highs and lows not experienced by anyone who ever “played it safe” — but I was born to live, and so, that’s what’s I’ve done. These are just some of those (all true 100%) stories.

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