Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Death on 380

It was not a pretty sight. In one of those moments you see happening in slow motion, it was happening to me. Three vehicles ahead of mine. Playing out for all drivers to see. Or at least those who were wide-eyed and bushy tailed. By almost eight in the morning, at least half a pot of coffee has been ingested by myself. The drivers on the other side, were they paying attention? That is my question. When I saw it happening I wanted to honk my horn and come to a screeching halt. But I knew the drivers behind me weren't paying attention. They were too close. So letting off the gas as the accident happened was all I could do. To my amazement they must have seen it happen as well.
Running as fast as it possibly could, a beautiful doe had decided it was time to cross the busy interstate before 8 o'clock. Thank God she didn't have her fawn following. She was alone. Probably chased by a sexually charged buck or blood-thirsty hunter. Either way it was the final curtain for our little lady. I was three automobiles back. She came running past on the western side of the interstate without getting hit. She was halfway through. But there were a line a traffic on both northbound lanes. A black SUV in the fast lane hit her with its left headlight. Bam! She went straight down in the median. Just as fast as she came out of the corn field did she fall to her death. Murder on the highway. There was nothing to do. Everyone kept going. No one stopped. No one pulled over. Not even the SUV. Everyone drove on by. I kept finding myself slowing down the rest of the commute. Looking and scanning the horizon for her family and friends. No deer anywhere. Guess they all are waiting for their turn to run across the deadly highway.
It is a sad day for the deer and the driver. Their insurance will probably go up. They will likely have thousands of dollars of repairs. I will have that vision of the deer's final seconds of life play over in my head. It's like a movie that you can't take your eyes off. Mesmerizing in a morbid way. Death on 380.