CRASH!!!!!!!!

7 October 2012

Dear Phyllis,

Well, I certainly can't say nothing happened this past week. The biggest event of the week was a crash. It was category B accident – A being hospitalization. But it was the worse bike accident I have ever had in 50 years on two wheels. Pammy and I were riding home on her Honda after our daily session speaking at Annie's school. We were riding along a road about 1.5 km from home following a truck who was going very slowly. After going through a flashing light intersection, where nearly everyone was stopped, I managed to pass that truck, and saw another one slightly ahead going equally slowly. There was a motor bike following that truck, and I saw a good chance to get by both. I thought there was a fair possibility that the bike might have the same idea I had to pass the truck and gave extra room to allow for that possibility. I was still going fairly slowly – probably about 30 kph – when suddenly the bike turned in front of me to pull into a driveway. It was instantaneous. There was nothing I could do.

I hit him more or less broadside. I really don't know what happened to the other bike but I was desperately trying to turn to avoid him and went over sideways. I later was surprised that I didn't go over the handle bar, but I do remember still holding on the handle grips when we finally skidded to halt in the grass at the side of the road. Most of the action was on my right arm. Amazingly I felt no pain, but I knew I had some serious abrasion on my arm. My head was also down on the pavement and I thought I probably had a bloody mess over my right eye. When we stopped, my first conscious thought was, “Praise the Lord, there is nothing seriously broken”. I kept saying, “I'm okay, I'm okay” but I was having trouble getting out from under the Honda that was more or less on my leg. Somehow I did get extricated and got on my feet to survey the damage.

The most fortunate thing was that Pammy was behind me, and my body shielded her from the initial impact. And then she wound up on top of me riding on me like a sled. She got by totally unscathed.

The other driver turned to to be a 30 year old boy. He seemed to be alright, but did have a slight ding on his arm. I helped him pick his bike up and got it off the street.

My greatest concern was to keep this as low keyed as possible. I have a Thai drivers license, but that expired two years ago. I really didn't want a police investigation where I didn't have a legal drivers license, and we all were without helmets. There was nothing good that could come out of a police investigation. Regardless of whose fault it was, we must accept that the falang (foreigner) is always wrong in this country. If I had been sitting in a parking lot, and someone ran into me, that would still be my responsibility. I desperately wanted to pick up our respective motor bikes, give the boy our name and phone number – and get his – and get out of there.

Pammy was not of that mentality. In her mind we were in the proper place, and he was wrong in turning in front of us. Of course, he must take full responsibility and pay us for the damage to our bike. Oddly enough, he didn't see it that way. He thought he was right and we were wrong in hitting him. Oh my goodness, did we have a problem! I started out trying to use Pammy as an interpreter to arbitrate the dispute. But she was not interested in translating what I was trying to say. On the contrary she was intensely interested in establishing her point that we were right and he was wrong. Imagination might suggest the scene that developed. I could see that we were headed for trouble – BIG TIME. I kept pleading, “Please be quiet.” That didn't work. I escalated my vocabulary trying to calm her down and defuse an extremely volatile situation. By that time at least ten people from the neighborhood were gathered, and it was a unanimous voice against Pammy. Finally I was on the side of the neighbors arguing with Pammy trying to get her out of there. Salvation came when she got so angry that she stomped out walking home.

I was delighted to see her out of the equation, but she had generated a nuclear scene of some fiercely angry people. I turned to one man who seemed to be a spokesman and was greatly relieved that he spoke good English. By this time the problem wasn't the accident, but he wanted a pint of her blood. He furiously said, “Where is that woman going? Get her back here! I'm calling the police!” I pleaded, “Please don't call the police. That won't help anything.” And I pleaded, “I apologize for my wife, but it won 't make you feel any better by having a hotter argument with her.” Praise God, I was able to cool him down slightly, but he was still fired up over dealing with such wicked people. With great reluctance I was finally able to convince him that he was talking to a man that was reasonable. I asked him, “What can I do to make this right and get this settled?” To my amazement he came up with a figure of only 2,000 baht ($65). That was a bargain. I apologized that I didn't have any money on me at the moment, but if he would let me go home I would get the money and give it to him right away. No soap. He didn't trust me. Finally, there was an older man that he suggested take me home and leave my bike there. No problem with that. I knew Pammy was so angry there was no way I could talk her into giving me 2,000 baht to settle this dispute, and decided to see my friend Dave Moore. Dave gave me 2,000 baht which I gave to the other man. By that time the adrenaline had dissipated considerably. I profusely apologized for the big problem we had caused and was able to shake hands amicably with everyone involved.

As I was getting ready to leave, suddenly I realized I didn't have my glasses on. I looked for them in the grass where we stopped and saw them. But the last part of my travel on the pavement was on my face and I had irreplaceably scratched the lens and bent the ear stem at right angle. When I picked them up they looked so funny I started laughing. The crowd of the neighbors standing there saw me laughing and they started laughing. Then we all were having a hearty laugh together. How I praised God I got out of that so cheaply; and it was wonderful to be back on the bike with a marvelous spirit of good cheer with everyone who had been there for the past 30 minutes.

In a situation like that it is not a matter of who is right and who is wrong. I knew if the police came, it is a given that I was wrong, and I would have spent the day in the police station for driving without a valid drivers license. And the testimony of Christ is far more important than winning an argument. Hopefully, I left them with the impression that I was a decent man.

We can fix the bike. It wasn't damaged that badly. But I was a mess. Blood was streaming down my arm and head. Everyone insisted, “You must go to the hospital”. But there was little that they could do that I couldn't do at home. Rather than going home I went to my friend Mike's house, and hoped they could fix me up. That was another wild scene. It was Bill against five friends demanding I must go to a doctor. I insisted, “Hang the doctor! Go to a pharmacy and get some bandages.”At last my friends went to buy some bandages and I went on home.

One of the worst disasters was that I had on my favorite shirt that Chet Ansley had given in Nebraska two years ago. That was shredded and soaked with blood.

Getting cleaned up wasn't much fun. There was a lot of sand and dirt in my wounds. We had a big time getting that out. I first had landed on my shoulder and there was a patch of missing skin the size of an egg. My forearm was the worse with four or five large places of missing skin. My head wasn't too bad, but there was a cut over my eye.

Apart from several major abrasions wounds I felt fine. I was able to put in a fairly normal day working the rest of that afternoon. But as time wore on, I was surprised how badly my body stiffened up. Where Pammy had landed on me, my chest felt like a slight cracked rib. Nothing serious, but it did make it difficult to lift some things. I had my forearm wrapped with gause and several band-aids on my hand. We were short of medical tape so I used electrical tape to hold on the gauseand bad-aids. That worked pretty good but there was no way I could stop the oozing fluid and blood from the patches. Consequently, that night, I put on an old ragged long sleeve shirt and slept in my chaise lounge chair outside. I didn't want to get blood all over the sheets. I feel pretty good today and the wounds are healing nicely.

The theological question arises, why did the Lord let this happen? I have had innumerable times when the Lord has saved me by millimeters from serious accidents. Given the same scenario that I had Friday, I would do the same thing. Regardless of who is right or wrong, reality is, that there is always danger on roads and motor bikes. I count heavily on the mercy of God to keep me safe. Accidents do not alter Rom 8:28 and I firmly believe that Jesus will vindicate Himself even in the face of my misfortune. We can always thank God that things weren't worse. Pammy got by unscathed. The other boy was not seriously injured. The only thing I lost was skin, shirt, and my glasses. But that means nothing in eternity. In a week I will be fine.

On the positive side, we have been having some very good times every day over at the school where Annie is in kindergarten. The directors (man and wife) are desperately interested in salvation. Pammy is doing an outstanding job every morning teaching them from the Bible for one to two hours. I have been asking the Lord for a Bible study in our home with 12 Christ-seeking souls. We had our first start Friday night with Singha and Lek. At this point it is difficult to imagine them not being saved soon. It would be easy to pray with them for salvation any time. But I want their transaction with Jesus to be deep and personal. When they showed up Friday night I asked them what they wanted to study. Singha nervously said, “The judgment of God.” Pammy has been dealing with them from Genesis 1-6. We talked about the Flood Friday night and the next final judgment when God destroys the world by fire. They see that very clearly. They both have been to church and hopefully will be regular church goers.

That would be a major accomplishment if we could see this couple saved and turn that kindergarten into a Christian school where Jesus is presented to all the children and their parents. And it would be a wonderful thing if the boy I hit on the bike Friday, and all the mad folks in that neighborhood, got saved. It only cost us a little money and some small patched of skin; but Jesus paid for their souls with His Blood. If He can gain the reward of His sufferings through our minor inconvenience that would make everything more than worth while.

Thank you again for the joy of your fellowship.

Lord willing, see you next week,

bill

PS: Yesterday, I remembered that I had lost my good cowboy hat that Chet gave me. That is the most precious thing I own, and I had more or less given that up as gone. I just got back from going to the accident scene with Pastor Kichikun. Miraculously we found the hat in the weeds where we stopped. Kichikun had a marvelous time talking with the people next door who helped us look for it. I can easily see good coming out of that relationship.