The Day My World Changed
Something happened on Wednesday, December 17, 1986 that should have ended my life.
It was a freak accident that changed my entire outlook on the world. It re-framed me as a person. It shaped my future. And it scared me to death.
I’m 13 years old, riding my bike to James Logan High School in Union City, a small town in Northern California. Even though I’m still in 8 th grade, I go to the high school in the mornings to take an advanced math class that isn’t offered at my middle school. I’m “high on life” because I had just returned from the Little League World Series in Taylor Michigan about four months earlier…
If you are a baseball player, or you know any baseball players, you undoubtedly understand how special the LLWS is for a ball player. It’s what we all dream about in our backyards playing against imaginary opponents. If you’re not familiar with the LLWS, just understand that there are approx. 2.7 million youngsters who play Little League baseball each year. Including all the different levels, I believe fewer than 1,000 kids from all over the world make it to the World Series. That’s about 1 kid out of every 3,000.
When we came back from our trip that summer, there were hundreds of parents, friends and fans from Union City to greet us at the airport. It was amazing to come out of the airplane tunnel and hear the deafening chant of “U-C-U-C-U-C-U-C!” Newspaper reporters were all over the place. In fact, there was a big picture published in the paper of me holding my 3-year old nephew Jeremy. A few days later, the whole city had a parade in our honor. We rode in fancy antique cars. The mayor of the city gave a speech and presented us with awards. We were all instant celebrities and on top of the world.
Aside from my baseball success, I was also excited about the upcoming game between the Los Angeles Rams and the San Francisco 49ers. They were going to play that Friday night and even though the 49ers routinely beat up my beloved Rams, I knew this time was going to be different. In anticipation, I was wearing my brand new, bright blue Rams Starter jacket. I couldn’t keep a smile off my face. Life was perfect and I was invincible. That was my mindset. Now back to the story.
…In a complete state of joy, I’m riding in the bike lane, going the same direction as traffic on Alvarado Niles Road, a 45 mph, heavily traveled street. It’s about 7:45 in the morning. The weather is overcast, damp, misty and quite cold. Visibility is a little low. As I come to an intersection, I notice a car quickly approaching from the right side and it doesn’t look like she’s going to stop at the stop sign. She’s about to hit me…
Have you ever been in a situation where you suddenly realize you’re in danger, and you’re forced to act upon instinct? That’s where I found myself.
...Just before she makes contact with my bike, I violently turn my handlebars to the left and make an almost 90 degree turn to avoid her car. As I look back over my right shoulder at the car I just dodged, I let out a big sigh of relief, like we all do when we barely avoid danger. My heart is pounding because of the sudden adrenaline rush. Time stands still for a split second. Then, as I whip my head back around to see where I’m going, I tragically discover where I am - in the middle of the slow lane…
At the point of impact, I blacked out. The car, a small yellow hatchback being driven by my next door neighbor, was traveling between 40 and 50 mph. My lower left leg, which was extended in the forward pedaling position, proved to be no match for the front bumper. Like a wild bull charging a matador’s red cape, the car went right through the front half of my bicycle, destroying my leg in the process. Witnesses said he never slowed down. I flipped violently in the air, legs flailing. My back hit the roof of his car so hard that my jacket left a blue smudge on the yellow paint. I don’t remember hitting the ground, only waking up.
…As I open my eyes, not understanding what had just happened, I’m staring into the headlights of oncoming traffic…
Hopefully, you never have that experience.
…Instinctually I try to stand up and run to the side of the road. But I have no feeling in my left leg and it’s not cooperating…
You see, the accident broke both bones in my left leg. The car’s bumper had actually shorn my tibia (shin) bone completely in half. If the impact had been a few inches toward my calf muscle, my leg may have been torn completely off. Instead, my lower leg was barely being held together by what was left of my skin, muscles and tendons.
…I collapse back down to the ground. In survival mode, I frantically crawl out of the street, as my left leg whipped back and forth behind my knee, totally useless. I make it to the corner of the sidewalk as people start gathering around me. I’m hopelessly confused. I can vaguely hear a woman, the driver I originally tried to avoid, leading a prayer, asking God to spare my life. Everyone’s panicking, but trying to keep me calm at the same time.
I am laying on my right side, leaning on my right elbow. Trying to process what has just occurred, I lift my left leg about 8 inches into the air. But I notice my shoeless left foot is still touching my right ankle, having slid up toward my head just a little. My lower left leg is hanging limp at the shin, moist with blood. It looks like the only reason it’s still attached is because of my sock…
I may have blacked out again on the street corner, because the next thing I remember was being in the back of the ambulance on the way to the hospital. The medical technician kept talking to me, obviously trying to keep me engaged in conversation so I wouldn’t focus on my obliterated leg and possibly go into shock.
…“Do you think my leg is broken?”
“I don’t know. We’ll check it out at the hospital.” (well-trained response!)…
And then I asked this new friend of mine one of the most profound questions I’ve ever asked another human being, especially considering the fragile situation I was in at the time. I looked up at him, with puppy dog eyes, full of innocence, trying to process this near-death experience with the mind of a child, and said,
…“Will I be able to watch the Rams on Friday?”…
I don’t know if I was delusional, in a state of denial, or if it was just my way of coping. Looking back, it was probably one of the earliest examples of my innate ability to focus on the positive. And it worked - I never felt any pain throughout the whole ordeal that morning.
…I’m now in the hospital, lying in a bed, totally dazed. The doctor takes out a pair of huge black scissors and cuts into my left pant leg. After he peals off my pants, I catch a glimpse of the wound.
‘Oh my god’ is all I can say. Strangely, the gaping hole, filled with a fresh puddle of blood, is actually bigger than my leg itself. How is that possible? This isn’t even my leg. Can’t be. Is that my bone?...
My mother and father had obviously been notified and they arrived at the hospital shortly. I remember clearly having a little family huddle, just the three of us and the doctor. And my dad made a classic comment, without much pre-thought. He turns to my mother, points down at my leg and said,
…“You know this is almost the exact same injury that ended Joe Theisman’s career!”…
Wow – thanks for that, Dad! Nothing like adding sugar on top of my already delicious dessert! I now had to contemplate this being the end of my athletic career.
If you don’t remember, Washington Redskins’ quarterback Joe Theisman had his leg broken by Lawrence Taylor of the New York Giants on national TV just a short time before my accident. It was the most horrific sports footage I’ve ever watched.
The huddle ultimately broke upon the doctor giving my parents the game plan. I didn’t hear it at the time, but I later found out the “experimental surgery” play. The surgeon was going to open up my leg, gather all the little swimming chunks of bone that had been left over from the explosion, grind them up into tiny white grapenuts, stuff them between the two larger pieces of my tibia – a bone sandwich, basically – then cross his fingers and hope everything fuses together.
My parents asked, “What if it doesn’t work? Do we have to do another surgery and try again?”
“No,” he replied. “We’ll have to amputate his leg.”
(gulp)
Okay, my dad’s career-ending comment suddenly doesn’t sound all that bad, now! They might take my leg?!?!
…I’m on the operating table, with an oxygen mask over my nose and mouth. The doctor says they have to make me unconscious for the surgery, and I won’t feel a thing. He tells me to count backwards from 12, and I do.
12…11…10…I don’t feel anything happening. Maybe this doesn’t work on me…
…9…8…7…If I’m not unconscious when they cut me open, it’s gonna hurt really bad! I’m starting to get a little scared…
…6…Uh oh, something’s happening now. Everything’s getting blurry…
…5…I can’t see straight, my eyes are crossing. I hope this thing works…
I never made it 4.
I remember opening my eyes for the first time after the surgery. My body felt so heavy. I couldn’t move anything. I remember wondering if I still had my leg attached.
To make a very long story short, the experimental surgery went beautifully. My bones fused together. It’s amazing how the human body works. Other than a huge jagged scar, and my left leg becoming a fraction longer than my right, I was able to recover completely within 2 years. Oh yeah, I watched the Rams game from my hospital bed that Friday after surgery. I think they lost 42-0.
That experience totally changed my outlook on life. Before, I was a fairly outgoing, invincible young boy who was afraid of nothing. After the accident, however, I became an observer. Coming that close to death caused me to realize just how much I used to take for granted. Remember, I couldn’t have been a happier person at the time - I was on top of the world. And that day should have been my last. I learned real quick that no matter how good our lives may seem, we are not promised tomorrow. Every day you wake up, be thankful.
I often think back to that morning and replay the situation had things been just a little different. For example, if there had been another vehicle tailgating the yellow one, something you see every day on the road, I would have been run over by the second car and probably killed instantly. If I had veered into the street a split second later, the yellow car would have only hit my front tire. I would have flipped forward instead of sideways, and my head would have collided with the windshield. There’s no way I survive that impact. Or if I had veered into the street a split second earlier, I would have been further into the yellow car’s path, and it would have gone through my whole body. I’m sure I wouldn’t have survived that either. I learned the hard way that we really do only get one shot in life. Whether we make it the best or the worst, that’s it. No do-overs. No rewind buttons. One shot.
And if we only get one shot in life, shouldn’t we make it our best effort? We are not promised our next breath, let alone the next 20, 50 or 100 years of health. We travel this path once. And if there’s a choice between living a life of your dreams, and living a life of mediocrity, how can you settle for mediocrity?
So my post-accident life has been spent studying people, success and goal-setting. I’ve been mostly interested in why so many people are okay with settling for a life less than their dreams. Most people create a pattern of settling that keeps them in the mud on the side of the road. They settle for a college they don’t really want to attend, settle for a job that “pays the bills”, settle for a home they don’t really like, settle for a boyfriend or girlfriend that’s not a perfect match, get married to this less-than-ideal partner, etc. That kind of behavior is poisonous. Pretty soon, the settling becomes a disease. And before they know it, these people are so far off the path to their goals, that they can’t even remember what they were. A lot of people have lost the ability to dream. They believe life is about dealing with unfulfilled hopes, managing stress, and “paying bills”.
That’s not life! That’s a nightmare!
Life is meant to be exactly as you wish. This is YOUR life. You can create whatever circumstances you want. You are writing the script of YOUR life right now. If you are not intentionally writing that script, someone else is doing it for you. Don’t let that happen. You have to guard that pen with everything you’ve got. And when it comes to writing your life story, be BOLD. Be BRAVE. Be COURAGEOUS. Plant your flag and say “This is my life! This is who I am. I am somebody. I’ve got places to go. I’ve got big things to do. And if you don’t believe me, I never asked you.”
Whatever it is you want to do, have or become, go out there and do it, get it and become it! There’s a champion inside every single one of us. There’s a passion inside of you that desperately wants to be fulfilled. Shame on you if you turn out the lights on your passion, just because someone else says it can’t be done, or shouldn’t be done, or it’s not meant for YOU. Those words only come out of the mouths of quitters, people who long ago gave up on their dreams, and they want you to give up on yours because misery loves company. YOU are better than that. Guard that pen and PURSUE YOUR PASSION!