For WDC this year, we are all coming to Portland, OR. I decided to come up a few days to early to Corvallis via greyhound so that I could see how I like it (because I’m considering moving to Portland or Corvallis for grad school). On the bus I was pretty reserved and quiet until the end of the trip. This was mostly because I was tired and it was a very, very long trip. The people were nice, though for the most part they struck me as “hicks” (please excuse my stereotype). The man sitting in front of me boarded the bus shortly after we got into Oregon (if I recall correctly?), was on crutches, had a 3” long goatee, gray hair, a hunter’s cap, and dressed like a cowboy. Towards the end of the trip we started conversing with all the people around us. When asked him how he got injured, he informed us that he was run over by a semi… twice. Apparently he was standing on the side of the road when the truck driver dozed off and ran over him. Not knowing what happened, the driver decided to back up, running over him again. This kind of struck home to me because my sister-in-law was killed by a semi-truck driver about 11 years ago. After we arrived in Portland I didn’t see him leave, but he wasn’t in the terminal with me for the hour and a half that I waited there. I went out to lunch with a friend during the layover and when I returned he was there along with a 20-year-old man that had ridden the bus with us. He wasn’t waiting for the same bus we were, but he was hanging around the terminal because he was staying in a hotel tonight in Portland before flying to Dallas to have surgery. We were conversing and somehow we started talking about his accident. Apparently after he was struck he was in a coma for 17 days, then was taken to a retirement home for recovery. He has pins in his arms and legs, and has plates in his head. He has scars all over. He’s been wheelchair and crutches bound since he was able to leave his hospital bed. He also informed me that his daughter just recently passed away. He stated that “parents shouldn’t have to bury their own children.” I told him my mother frequently says that and that two of my siblings have had spouses die. It was hard to watch him try to cope with what happened while being there with us. I recall him also saying “I stayed alive for her, and she couldn’t do the same for me” and “after it happened, I just wanted to hurt everybody like I hurt.” How do you cope with that kind of situation? One of my biggest fears is the pain I’m going to feel when that sort of thing happens to me. Seeing the pain on his face was hard enough.
After giving him a minute to compose himself, I told him about him about how I had plans to go Snowboarding in Oregon, but that those plans were canceled. He told me he was a skier, so I asked if he had ever skied in Utah. He totally has! Not only has he skied in Utah, but he’s been to Snowbird (where I work) and Alta. How awesome is that? He then told me how fantastic the snow is, and that although most places in Oregon don’t compare most of the time (occasionally they do), there are a couple places that do. I don’t remember which places he said though, I’ve never heard of them before. We also found a ski magazine of Mt. Hood Meadows where we looked at the trail map and I compared it to Snowbird for him. We tried to explain to the 20-year-old about how if you go out of bounds you’re screwed if you get injured haha. I searched in my backpack to see if I could find a trail map of Snowbird but couldn’t. I did find my ski pass though, and showed it to him. He asked me if he could have my “Snowbird” lanyard, so I gave it to him (hopefully I can find a new one haha). I’m not sure why, but this simple gesture seemed to touch him. To me, I simply gave away my lanyard. To him, I was a girl that had a big heart. This sort of bothered me a little bit, because I feel like there is so much more I could have done for him. When I had to say goodbye, he said “thank you so much for this, it means a lot to me. Especially coming from one skier to another (I corrected him and told him I’m a boarder).” I then gave him a hug and left.
The whole experience was pretty awesome, but I can’t help feel bad in a way. This man has been through so much. He used to ride a bike tens of miles a day. He used to ski all the time. He used to do all these things, and they were taken away from him by someone that didn’t have the decency to pull over on the side of the road because they were too tired to be driving. And he lost his daughter. I can’t imagine how much that must hurt. On top of it all, he was so grateful to me for something as small as a lanyard that he can show to people. I am frustrated with myself because I didn’t do more. I should have gotten his phone number so I could call and make sure he was doing alright after his surgery. I didn’t even get his name… not even his first name. I feel so selfish. I didn’t do anything to deserve better things in life than him, and I feel like I have so much more I could have given.
I really hope his surgery went well. I wish I had gotten some sort of information so I could call and check up on him. What I do know is that his gratitude for a simple lanyard and hug will affect me for the rest of my life. To him, I was the girl with the big heart that listened and shared my lanyard. To me, he’s the man that is still fighting after all that has happened to him, and grateful to be alive even though he’s lost the ability to do the things that are most important to him. It inspires me to keep on fighting, especially because my battles are much smaller and much more manageable. If he can do it, I sure can too.
By the way, Portland is beautiful. In my consideration for places to move I am also looking at Seattle. I've driven through there once, and it was absolutely gorgeous. I've heard many great things. After arriving in Portland, Seattle has some stiff competition! Dang, I hate making life-altering decisions.
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