The Accident

On the night of September 19, 1997, I nearly died.

I was a passenger in a fatal car accident that changed my life forever.

This is my story.

Before

We were all set to celebrate my friend Duane’s 19th birthday the next day at his family farm. Three of us - Jason, Steve, and myself made our way out to Duane’s late Friday afternoon.

We were all set for a big day tomorrow, except for the fact we were missing a key ingredient - the BEER! Thankfully, the local pub was only a 10-15 minute drive from Duane’s place.

So before we settled in for a pre-party party, we jumped back into Jason’s Holden Commodore and set off to pick up the kegs.

I remember it being a typical dark Southland night. Steve was in the front passenger seat, Duane was behind him next to me in the back while Jason was driving.

The stereo was cranked loud with us all singing (badly) along to such late 90s classics as Tubthumping by Chumbawamba! It was just another classic Friday night until it wasn’t.

Crash

We were literally 2-3 minutes from the pub when we sped over a slight rise in the road.

Suddenly the car moved sharply to the left then right with Jason trying to correct our path back onto the road.

I could feel the car sliding FAST…

The last thing I remember before we crashed was an immense rush of adrenalin with my heart jumping out of my throat like you get when you’re on a roller coaster hurtling downwards.

After

The saying “my life flashed before my eyes” has become a cliche. However, for me it really did. I remember different parts of my childhood playing out in my mind in an old projector-style movie.

I was playing with my brother in our backyard in Wellington, I was riding my bike in Lumsden, I was walking with my Mum… to this day I can’t explain it.

I don’t know if I passed out or was knocked out during the accident but when I came to I was jammed between the front two seats with glass covering my face.

*Note - none of us were wearing seatbelts. I ALWAYS wore my seatbelt, why I didn’t this time I don’t know.

The first thing I did was try to move. I quickly discovered I was stuck unable to escape my position between the front two seats. I could barely move my arms but I remember shaking the glass off my face and patting my body down checking for injuries.

The first voice I heard was Steve’s. He was yelling my name to see if I was OK. I replied I was OK… I think… this is all very hazy and I was in shock.

Steve was OK except that his hand was stuck in the sunroof under the car. This is when I realized the car was upside down.

We could hear Duane behind me struggling to breathe, I’ll never forget the sound.

Steve and I were both panicking, just wanting to escape the car. We started to scream for help!

Rescue

Thankfully, it wasn’t long before someone came to our aid. Again, this part is very hazy in my memory but it was a man who lived in a house close to the highway who heard the crash.

I believe he went and got his tractor and helped move the car enough so that Steve could escape.

The firefighters arrived shortly after this, well in my memory they did, time seemed to disappear and due to being quite out of it, I was strangely calm.

They worked quickly to cut me out of the car and I was placed on the ground beside the road.

This is when I heard my Dad’s panicked voice asking if I was OK.

My Dad was the local policeman and had responded to the emergency call not knowing he was going to arrive at the scene of his son and friend's accident.

I had a sore arm, I was sure it was broken but other than that I felt fine - due to being in shock. The Coolio song “I’ll see you when you get there” played over and over in my head.

Siren lights were flashing in the cold, dark Southland night as the Dr asked me different questions, all of which seemed silly to me at the time.

I was eventually loaded into an Ambulance and we were off to Gore Hospital.

Hospital

I don’t remember anything about the 30-minute ride to Gore Hospital. But I do remember what happened after I arrived.

Due to my Dad accompanying me, the nursing staff must have thought I was a drunk driver or something because they treated me with nothing but disdain.

They roughly cut the clothes off me and didn’t seem to give a F&%k about my wellbeing, so much so my Dad actually had to say “This is my son!”

My Mum arrived at the hospital and it was at this stage I started to realize what had happened.

I assumed Duane was dead but I hadn’t even given Jason a single thought.

I asked Dad, is Duane dead? He said no but he was in a very bad way. I then asked…

How was Jason?

Dad paused and then in his classic Policeman’s manner told me that Jason had passed away at the scene.

It didn’t seem real, shit it doesn’t feel real more than 25 years later as I type these words.

But I didn’t have time to grieve because I was bundled back into another ambulance and headed to Invercargill Hospital.

The rest of the night/dawn was a blur of being given powerful drugs, x-rays, tests, etc.

The last thing I remember before passing out was Dad breaking down beside my hospital bed. The poor guy had kept it together all night but even tough, old, veteran policemen have their breaking points.

The Morning After

I woke up drowsy as F%&k, hooked up to an IV pumping me with morphine (which we would later discover I have an allergy to.)

A nurse arrived to tell me the awesome news that they were going to insert a catheter and I had no say in the matter. I won’t divulge any more details on that episode.

The only reason I mentioned that is because that morning a large group of friends descended upon my hospital room to see how I was.

So I’m lying in a hospital bed, with only a thin sheet covering my naked body with a catheter as 6-10 teenagers stare at me.

The nurses quickly moved them along saying I was in no state to have that many visitors. The sad thing was I never saw many of those friends again during my hospital stay.

The Diagnosis

I’m not sure when I found out or was told but I suffered a fractured vertebrae in the accident.

I had a wedge fracture of my L1 as they called it back then. Luckily, it was stable so I simply had to rest on my back for 10 days in the hospital and wear a titanium (sounds cooler than metal) back brace for 3 months.

I also had a small but very deep burn behind my shoulder/upper back that required them to put fake skin over it. Something I came to forget until the first shower I had before leaving the hospital when a massive chunk of it came off in my hands! I nearly fainted!

Unfortunately, my hospital stay meant I couldn’t attend Jason’s funeral, instead, I was left alone in my hospital room trying to process what happened.

I must mention that Jason’s Mum came to visit me. She even brought a gift of a couple of Playboy magazines for me, Pamela Anderson on the cover of one. Such a warm and kind person, just like Jason.

The Aftermath

I will start with what I was told about the accident itself.

We left the road and crashed through a wire fence, the car flipped/cartwheeled multiple times smashing through concrete sheep troughs.

The firefighters cut me out of the car with the jaws of life.

Miraculously, Steve escaped physically unscathed. Today, he’s living back in Southland with his family. We still are in touch and hopefully, one day soon will catch up in person.

As I mentioned, I fractured my back and as the Dr said when I was ripping off my back brace months later - “You will always be reminded of this injury.” Unfortunately, he was right, as I suffer ongoing back pain, numbness in my hands and feet, and the occasional spasm in my left hand due to muscle wastage.

To be honest, it's the mental scars that affect me more than the physical injuries. I suffered PTSD for at least a year after the accident. Every time I hopped into a car my heart would start to race and I would exit the car with my back drenched in sweat. I didn't like driving before the accident and I sure didn't after it. Theme parks are a no-go for me and any bit of turbulence in a plane that makes my stomach get butterflies, kicks in the I'm going to die feeling. 

Remember, I was only 18 at the time, there was no mental health treatment let alone acceptance of admitting you weren't OK. Especially in rural Southland. 

Duane suffered catastrophic injuries. He was paralyzed and sustained serious brain damage.

He was airlifted to Burwood Hospital Spinal Unit in Christchurch where he would be treated for many months. The strength he and his family showed during this period was awe-inspiring. Despite undergoing such severe injuries, Duane would eventually recover enough to get his driver's license and live an independent life. Sadly, Duane would pass away nearly 10 years later due to a blood clot.

In Memorium

Jason - I feel lucky to have been Jason’s friend. He was immensely popular, especially with the girls, and people just gravitated towards him. Jason would roar up your driveway in his car, jump out, and before your parents could say anything, he’d be sitting on top of or beside the fireplace with a big grin, charming your Mum or Dad with his clever compliments.

Duane - A naturally gifted athlete, who could jump unbelievably high. Duane had a passion for horses and was finishing his Farrier apprenticeship when the accident happened. Like Jason, he loved older cars and would spend hours fixing them up with varying results.

Finally, I’d like to pass on my thoughts to Jason and Duane’s families. They always treated me with such kindness and I was never just the cop's son to them.

“Live as you would have wished to live when you are dying.” – Christian Furchtegott Gellert, German poet (1715 – 1769).

*I have left out certain details of the accident in respect of the families and friends. Steve, the remaining survivor has read this article and approved my publishing it.