Must’ve Been an Angel…

I had this little angel hanging on one of my windows for years and never really noticed it much. And it got me to thinking, do you believe in Guardian Angels? I mean, in all honesty, I’m not a religious person but there have been some times in my life where I felt SOMEBODY was watching over me. Somebody saved me from what should have rightfully been, a very bad situation. And my guess is that there have been times in your life, where you’ve escaped harm and wondered.

Let’s roll back the clock a bit, I’m living in San Francisco and some of you already know that I used to ride a motorcycle. It’s 8:30am and I’m doing my morning commute into Williams-Sonoma where I worked. Same route I take every day, down some hills on Franklin Street, bang a right onto Broadway in thick traffic, cars all around. I’m half-asleep, haven’t had my coffee yet, typical morning commute. I’m approaching a major intersection of Broadway and Van Ness, the traffic light turns yellow but no big deal. I’m cruising at a relaxed 40 mph and I can get through easily before the red…

The SUV on my left takes a turn and all of a sudden, a teal green Escort darts across my path. I’m 15 feet away and closing the gap between us, FAST! I can see the pin-striping, chipped paint and worn tires on the vehicle. I jam on my front brakes as HARD as I can trying to slow the bike down at max speed without locking up the rear wheels and potentially sliding under the car. Everything’s in slow motion and the teal green Ford is right in front of me, I can nearly touch it and…

Urrrrrrhhhhh!!!!

The next thing I remember is I’m now standing in one of biggest street intersections in the City. Eight lanes across one way, four the other. I’m shaking my head, trying to clear the cobwebs. I’m on auto-pilot now and see my bike on the ground, fifteen feet behind me. Traffic has come to a stand-still with people watching me. I walk over and it’s heavy. A motorcycle is well over 400 lbs with a full gas tank, it takes several efforts and I finally heave it up. I look up and there’s a crowd on the corner, pie-eyed and mouths agape. I’m able to drag it over to the corner and lay it down against the curb.

“Dude are you ok?! I saw everything that happened, you were legal! You were going through a yellow!” As consciousness slowly seeped back into my brain, I could finally hear the buzz and surprise of the people standing on the corner who had witnessed the accident. I got several names and numbers of witnesses who would testify on my behalf. My head is finally starting to clear up, I look up and then see the teal green Ford Escort pulled over on the side of the road. I walk over, lean in and ask the young lady driver, “How’s it going?” She’s in near tears and shaking badly. I spend the next 15 minutes trying to calm her down, waving my arms and legs in front of her to show the girl I’m ok. She says she can’t stop shaking but eventually she calms down. A policeman stops by and collects our license and registration information. A wrecker stops by, picks up my motorcycle and I’m back at work at Williams-Sonoma, two hours later. A few co-workers stop by after hearing about my accident, one leaves in near tears but that’s ANOTHER story.

After work I stop by the motorcycle shop and see the damage. My Suzuki’s forks are twisted into bent metal, the windshield is broken, there are scapes all along the right side so the bike will have to be scrapped, shoot. I get back home later that night and do a careful inventory on my own body. I can’t find a single bruise on my legs, elbows, butt or back. I check out my jeans and there are no scuffs on them. My helmet and jacket are nearly brand-new, I can’t find a single scratch or scrape on them. What in the world?! Outside of a slightly stiff lower back, somehow I walked away from a motorcycle accident at 40+ miles an hour, in one of the biggest intersections in SF.

For the life of me, I can’t figure out exactly what happened after blacking out. My best guess is that I got launched over the front of the bike, over the back of the Escort, tumbled and ended up back on my feet. Is that even possible? Or maybe my Guardian Angel was watching over me and got me safely to the ground? To this day, I’m not entirely sure but I wish I had gotten the whole story from the bystanders. I’m not religious but yeah, I felt like an angel was watching over me that day. Not sure how I got out of that entire disastrous situation with nary a scratch. No blood, no broken bones, no bruises.

In the end, my only thought is that God or somebody above, has plans for me that still have yet to be met. And if there are any angels out there, thank you. I owe you one…

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