Brush with Death | NT Publishing Company
I'm pretty sure trying to pass two vehicles on a two-lane highway was a dumb idea, but I was 17 and dumb ideas were pretty much normal. Laying peddle to metal the Firebird's speed jumped to 85 mph as I started around the blue Chevy in front of me. Luck would have it that the Chevy decided to pass the farm truck holding us both back just as I rounded its rear wheel. I guess the driver of the Chevy didn't see me as she started across the center-line, but I saw her coming and tried to move more to the left. I must have overreacted because my front wheel caught the shoulder and yanked me off the highway. It sent me flying down a steep embankment like an out-of-control skier headed straight for an ancient oak tree. There was no way I was going to survive a head-on collision with a huge tree at that speed. Death was imminent, but strangely, I felt calm. There was no fear, just acceptance. Just inches from the massive tree trunk, the Firebird came to sudden and an inexplicable stop. It was if