Many of you know by now that while on our way to Florida on Saturday, March 24, Kaitlyn, the Berkeley and I were in an accident on I-65 in Alabama. It was one of those surreal moments when you wonder if it’s really happening to you. Kaitlyn & I kept asking each other if it was real.
I don’t know how to begin the tale, or how to even explain the amazing power of a loving God who kept us from harm. But I will try my best to share the account…
Location: We were about 5 miles from our exit in Alabama on southbound I-65.
Fifteen minutes or so earlier I switched roles with Kaitlyn and took over the driving, since I knew we had about an hour or so to go. Up ahead I saw a truck cruising along, and decided that I wanted to pass them since they were approaching a car that was going seemingly slower. I was in the left hand lane passing the truck when I noticed the driver was coasting into my lane.
My first response was to say aloud, “Oh no truck, you don’t want to get in my lane.” That statement woke Kaitlyn up, and at that same moment, the truck collided into us at 75 mph.

Afterwards I remembered honking my horn and even giving the truck a lit of bit room as I slightly veered into the shoulder. I thought that would prevent any contact, but apparently the driver did not see us or hear the horn right away. I realized that we had been hit, but all I could think about was keeping our Explorer out of the median ditch.
When we made contact, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the driver yank on her wheel and over-correct. I really wanted to see what was happening, but my first concern was our safety. Kaitlyn, who was still a little shell-shocked from being woken up this way, watched the driver and the truck head off into the embankment on the right side of the road, flip twice and land with an incredibly loud thud several yards from where they first hit a dirt mound. When they hit the dirt mound, it sent a spray of dirt across the southbound lanes, so whatever traffic there was slowed down considerably.
We never lost control of our vehicle. We had no pains in our bodies. and surprisingly, we were able to pull off the lefthand shoulder to check for damages first since all traffic had ceased southbound.
I ran down to the where the truck had landed and thankfully a dozen or so people and vehicles stopped to offer emergency aid to the driver and her passenger. I asked Kaitlyn to move our truck to the right shoulder, and she retrieved Berkeley and some water for us as we waited and watched all the volunteers providing first aid to the accident victims. We never had a chance to meet or talk to the passengers in the other vehicle. There was too much being done to them, first with the volunteers, then with the emergency response units. I really wanted to offer my support and help, but I wasn’t needed or even useful.
The first state trooper arrived after 15 minutes, then the barrage of emergency personnel including 2 ambulances, the jaws of life truck, a fire truck, 2 additional state troopers and a helicopter that medi-vacked the passengers out. Seeing the helicopter land behind our truck and on I-65 was incredible. You know that it happens, it just doesn’t happen when you’re standing there.
When the first state trooper arrived, I immediately let him know that we were the ones this truck had hit, but that we were physically ok and our vehicle was intact. From that point on, we felt invisible.
No one talked to us. No one asked why we were standing there. No one checked on us to see if we really were ok. At one point, I thought we would cry from sheer shock. But somehow we remained composed and at peace. Even when we felt foolish standing next to the compacted truck, as rubber-neckers drove by, we still just stood there. Even when we realized that it had to be at least 85 degrees in the hot Alabama sun, we just existed. After an hour and a half or so of waiting, finally the officers talked to us. We let them know what we saw and experienced. He asked if we needed a tow. The one that filled out the report even drove us up to our truck so we wouldn’t have to walk on the busy interstate (traffic had started flowing again). (Though sitting in the back of an Alabama State Trooper car was not how I wanted to experience my first cop car ride. Being in the back felt weird!)
We drove onto to our exit, stopped at the gas station to use the restroom and get colder drinks and I made the ever important phone call to our insurance company. I think we sat in front of that convenience store for 30 minutes, still a little shocked. As we continued our journey to Pensacola, we talked about all the things we felt and saw. We processed it together and I think that helped overcome the shock. Although our accounts to our families that day was scattered and incomplete, we “felt” fine.
As I recall this moment in time, this unreal event that almost prevented us from having a vacation, I recognize the powerful hand of our loving God. He protected us from all harm, He guarded us from danger. He overwhelmed us with His peace. and He dwelled within our hearts so that we would be comforted in that time. I knew that my life was not over, after this moment. I knew that Kaitlyn’s life was not over. We still have much to do for His Kingdom and He made sure that we would be around to fulfill His plans for our lives.
THANK YOU JESUS!

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