That's the license plate we're looking for. White 95-99 Oldsmobile Eighty-eight/Regency with a badly wrecked front end. Kinda ironic I would make a post about 'cherish' being my word of the year...and the same night we're involved in a hit-n-run accident, and we believe the driver was under the influence...from what hubby could tell from talking to the driver.
Cherish...the thought that we're ok and we could walk away from the accident. Or is that more relief? Relief that the family in the car ahead of us are ok. And the neat part...we were both on the way to church for the same bible study. :)
The accident happened like it does in the commercials and movies. Everything is slow motion until the point of impact. The traffic in front of us quickly braked, so we did. I knew we'd stop in time, until I glanced in the side view mirror...I can't remember what I said, but I said something. It was either an expletive or another thought racing through my head, "Get ready for it," "Here it comes," "We're going to get hit." And then the impact. Not once, but twice. Nanoseconds. We were pushed into the car in front of us. The first was definitely harder than the second. I remember glancing back to Isaac in the car seat, I saw the seat being jostled. Stay calm. Flashers on. Hubby gets out. I turn back to Isaac once more. He's looking at me like he would any other time from the backseat "Hi Mom, what's up?" And then I think it hit him. He let out a wail, but was quickly calmed with the help of a bottle. Just a few sucks. Then a few nursery rhymes and songs to keep him entertained.
Between verses of 'Old McDonald' and B-I-N-G-O I'm able to catch bits and pieces of the conversation from the rolled down window. The family in front of us is on the phone with metro police. The gentleman behind us mentions he has insurance.
"Moo moo here, moo moo there..." Then I feel the car being pulled backwards. I glance through the back window to see the gentleman behind the wheel. "Ok, he's just trying to get his car out from underneath ours," I think to myself. Something else catches my attention and I look back again. He's backed away even further and then I hear the rev of an engine. My next thought, "WHAT?!" He's pulling around us! In the process he almost gets smacked by an oncoming minivan. Seriously, I'm watching our very own hit-n-run. You think it only happens on COPS, but no...it is real life and that feeling of "it will never happen to me" is out the window like dirty bath water. Shocked, stunned. I think I had to pull my jaw up from the floorboard. THINK FAST! The plate, I read aloud the combination of numbers and letters. I keep chanting them as I frantically search my purse for a pen. I KNOW I just dropped two pens in before we left the house...for note taking at our bible study. PaperMate...the blue ball point pens. I have a great photographic memory and I'm hoping it helps in this situation. Isaac squawks...shoot...was it CHA or CAH?! I find the pen stuffed in the crevice of my side pocket....something to write on! The insurance card. So yes, our insurance card has the plate number on it. Nate ducks his head in the window, shock and disbelief and he mentions he only got the first three numbers. I reassure I got the last three letters. I shakily hand him the insurance card with the information.
The fire engine pulls up, I can see blue lights behind it. Help is here. I went against my nature and stayed in the car to entertain Isaac. I so desperately wanted to be out on the street hearing what Nate and the other driver were reporting to the officer. After a short conversation between the trio of men, we pull off to a nearby neighborhood. The standard routine of "license and registration" is next. The officer pumps a little relief into us as he spouts off his statistics for recovering hit-n-runs. 75% success rate. Hmmm...as a school teacher that seems sketchy...75%, that's a low C or Apprentice by district standards...but I guess it is better than 50% or 30%, right?
So I'm asking for your help. Not that I expect all of my readers to 'release the hounds' and become pretend bounty hunters. But, while you're out, if you happen to see an older model white Oldsmobile/Buick with a smashed front end and license plate 748 (we're sure on that part) CHA or CAH, please inform the authorities. UPDATE: A family friend of our's who works at the county clerk's office ran the tags both ways...no match to the vehicle description. So possibly the tags are stolen or I misread the last three letters. Hmm...C, G?!
And I'm writing this now so I can 'get it out of my system' so I can hopefully drift off to sleep...I'm not angry, not dwelling on the 'what-ifs,' I just can't get to sleep. It will be on my mind. No wait, that's a self fulfilling prophecy...I don't want it on my mind for the remainder of the night. And hubby is softly snoring, surely sprawled across our king-sized bed since I'm not there to stake my claim to my half. Now it is time to nudge him back over to his side. :) UPDATE: Thursday I was seething with anger. By Friday I was mentally and emotionally exhausted...I just didn't want to think about it and wished it would all go away. At church on Sunday the message was about forgiveness...how appropriate. :) And today...I'm just waiting it out until I can get my hands on the police report. In the meantime, we took the car to two auto body repair shops. And the icing on the cake (really...I'm not being sarcastic, this is the good stuff) is we only pay our deductible and our auto insurance rates "should not" increase since it wasn't our fault. Ahhhh.....another sigh of relief.