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This writing assignment was completed in English 111. Its purpose was to summarize an essay and write a narrative relating the summary with one event in my life.
Close Call Rick Bragg faced an essential learning experience the summer before his senior year. In his article “100 Miles per Hour: Upside Down and Sideways,” Bragg retells a terrifying event with his new muscle car, a 1969 GM convertible. One night Bragg raced a friend from school and turned a sharp corner too fast. He ended up flipping his car upside down and landing across a ditch. The incident forced Bragg to think about the possible consequences of a situation, such as injury or fatality, before taking action (40-42).
In relation to Rick Bragg’s terrifying car accident, I too had an awful incident, but mine occurred the day before summer began my sophomore year. The last week of school was the most exciting because the students were released at 11:30 a.m. due to exams. Every day when the final bell rang students emerged from their cramped, humid classrooms and sprinted towards their lockers, or headed straight to the buses. Those who were lucky enough pulled out their car keys and were prepared to hit the open road.
I had turned sixteen, the driving age, a few months ago but never had the time to take my driver’s test. My mother worked half an hour away from home and by the time she got out at 4:30 p.m., it was always too late to take me. Indoor soccer was in the winter on Saturdays and outdoor soccer started in the spring. In the spring, practice lasted until five o’clock every day and games were on Saturdays. By the time I was done with soccer the Secretary of State was closed. For me, when the last bell rang, I was on my way to a forty-minute nap on the dreaded, foul bus.
Buses grew out of style in high school. Most underclassmen had older brothers, sisters, or next-door neighbors to drive them home. I was an only child and my mother worked at a local middle school that ended an hour after high school got out. I did have neighbors that taught at the high school but they were never allowed to leave when the last bell rang because of after school responsibilities. Therefore, every day, I got on the bus, and slept all the way until I felt the bumpy dirt road that connected to the road my house was on. During my forty-minute nap home I would dream of having a driver’s license and any car that would make it to school and back home every day. I had been riding the bus for practically a decade and it started to become irritating.
Danny, a neighbor of mine, could not afford a car so his friend drove him home every day. His friend’s name was Josh and he drove a shiny, white convertible Firebird. Josh never studied or worried about doing homework. His grades didn’t matter because his expensive Firebird put him high up on a pedestal that no one else could reach. Luckily his grades were high enough to be on the swim and track team. During his sophomore season he broke a school record in track. Ironically, Josh smoked about half a pack of cigarettes a day and a result near the end of track season his run times were dwindling.
Josh was the type of boy to go out in the middle of the school parking lot and squeal his new tires so everyone could hear and smell the stench of burning rubber. Fast cars had never intrigued me but Josh was obsessed with his. He believed he was invincible and no matter what happened nothing could hurt him.
Even though I didn’t know Josh very well, we had talked a few times in the hallways and always said “Hi” when we passed by each other as a common courtesy. The second day of exams I asked if he could give me a ride home since he was also taking Danny. He replied with an enthusiastic, “No problem, Anything for a lady!” I was disgusted by his comment but extremely excited to not have to ride the bus home again. Josh told me where he always parked and to meet him at his car as quickly as I could after the bell rang because traffic got really heavy in the parking lot.
The next day I took my book bag to my exam so I didn’t have to beat the dense, sweaty crowd to my locker. As soon as the last bell rang I sprinted to where Josh said his car would be parked. The Firebird wasn’t there and I was worried that Josh and Danny had forgotten about me and left already. Being a pessimist, it quickly became apparent that I would be riding the bus home once again.
I jogged between the rows of cars just to make sure my eyes weren’t deceiving me. I couldn’t find the car so I stood between the buses and the main door of Ogemaw Heights, pondering whether to give up and get on the bus. Just before I turned around to board the bus I spotted Josh and Danny nonchalantly walking out of the school. I ran over to them and asked Josh where his car was parked. He explained that he had skipped first hour and couldn’t find a parking spot in the area he normally parks.
By the time we reached the Firebird, on the opposite side of school, all the buses had left and most of the cars had sped off onto the open roads. Josh told me that since it was my first time in his car I could sit in front. When I climbed in the warm leather seats made my legs feel like I was getting an immediate tan. Josh lit up a cigarette, started the engine, and we were off. When he first accelerated I was a little nervous because it felt like we were going too fast for such a hectic parking lot. I didn’t say anything about it because I had never driven and could have been wrong.
The sleek white firebird made a sharp right turn out of the parking lot and onto M-33, one of the busiest roads in Ogemaw County. M-33 and M-55 are the two main roadways and connect only two miles from Ogemaw Heights. The light was green as we approached M-55 and surprisingly there looked to be no traffic. With one hand on the wheel and cigarette in the other, Josh looked over at me and said, “Wanna see something cool?” Giving me no time to answer he turned right, jack hammered the wheel and slammed on the gas pedal. The back end of the Firebird swerved left into the other lane while the front stayed straight. Unexpectedly, the front end veered to the left and turned one hundred and eighty degrees into the other lane. Before he could tell me what he was trying to do we were facing the opposite direction in the opposite lane that we wanted to be in. At first none of us realized it, but we had to come to a complete stop in the middle of the 55 mph speed limit road. It happened so fast that our hearts were racing and we were all taking deep breaths to calm down.
In a split second Josh looked into his rear-view mirror and saw a semi-truck appear coming up fast behind us. Josh could tell the semi had no intentions of slowing down. His cigarette dwindled fast and almost burned his fingers but that was the least of his worries. Like a mouse escaping the wrath of a cat, he slammed on the gas pedal. Danny and I both looked over our shoulders to see why Josh was panicking. I had never seen a semi-truck come up behind such a comparably small vehicle so close. After forcing could the Firebird to accelerate as fast as it could for about a mile the truck turned right. We barely escaped getting crushed and landing ourselves on the front page of the Ogemaw Herald.
Josh pulled the car into a nearby gas station to stop and breathe for a minute. I had tried to stay calm during the entire incident so that I didn’t scare Josh. I was afraid it would break his concentration on getting us out alive, but I couldn’t help losing my cool when it was over. Immediately after he parked the car I freaked out and asked what he was trying to do. Trying to act calm Josh said, “I was only trying to fish tail the rear end but the car got out of control.” He looked down in shame and put the car in gear to turn around to leave. I was so furious that I didn’t look or talk to him the rest of the way to my house.
When Josh safely parked in my driveway I yelled at him. I told him that I would never ride with him again because of his carelessness and asserted that he should be more aware of the innocent lives in his car than trying to look cool. He apologized but I could tell by the tone in his voice that it came without sincerity or maturity. I slammed his car door shut and never spoke to him again.
After taking my driver’s test a few months after the incident I earned my license. I paid for my own 1998 Grand Am and drove it with care. My mother told me to drive as if all other drivers on the road are drunk, immature, or just plain careless. As in Rick Bragg’s event, he was the immature one who didn’t think of the consequences of driving 100 milers per hour. In my incident, I was a passenger of a careless driver who thought driving stunts were safe to do on open roads.
Works Cited Bragg, Rick. “100 Miles per House, Upside Down and Sideways.” The St. Martin’s Guide to Writing. Ed. Rise B. Axelrod and Charles R. Cooper. 7th ed. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin’s, 2004. 40-42.
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