Ten years ago, I was traveling with a New Jersey pop-punk band called Midtown. My boyfriend at the time, Alex had already traveled with them a bit, selling merchandise and helping out with their tours over the previous summer. As the fall rolled by, and they were preparing to leave yet again for another tour in November, they realized they would need an extra hand. I had nothing of importance going on at the time, as I had recently graduated from college and was "in-between", not really knowing what to do with my life, so I volunteered myself to go. After a little apprehension on Midtown's part, because I was "a girl", and because I was Alex's girlfriend, they agreed to have me on board!! I'd be the "merch-girl", selling t-shirts, CD's, and stickers to eager 16 year olds, as we made our way across the US, touring with other bands such as Reel Big Fish, Bloodhound Gang, Dashboard Confessional, and A New Found Glory.
I was excited to go. What an amazing opportunity to do some traveling, and being surrounded by music made it even better!! I'd really only driven along the East Coast, so I was looking forward to checking out more of the country. We left early on election day in November of 2000. I remember saying goodbye to my mom and Alex's family quite vividly that morning. The air was crisp, but the sun was shining! Midtown picked us up at Alex's home. Our parents made acquaintance with the guys in the band, and then it was time for us to pack up and say our farewells. We then loaded ourselves into a 16 passenger van with a trailer on the back. Repeatedly, my overly protective mother kept saying, "Be Careful!!!" and "Wear your seatbelt!!!". Annoyed and aggravated, I kept saying in return, "Don't worry, mom!" and "We'll be fine!!". It was time for us to go!
The first week or so of tour was great. I was starting to get to know the guys better, as I was proving myself to be a a valuable part of the team. I never backed down, as a "typical girl" might have, from doing any of the grunt work. Loading and unloading the trailer was part of my job. I was grateful for the opportunity to tour, and appreciated being given the chance, so I was willing to help out in any way. I enjoyed creating a display for Midtown's t-shirts and CD's each night, and it was a pleasure to meet fans as we toured from city to city. We made our way to St. Louis, Kansas City, Minneapolis, Chicago and a few other places before heading back east to Springfield, NJ where we took a break for a couple of days before heading up north to Boston.
November 15th was the day we started our journey. We began by driving up 95 North, past New York City, and into Connecticut. I remember getting McDonald's for lunch. A vegetarian version...a burger with no meat, just cheese, and french fries. (One of the requirements in being able to tour with Midtown was keeping a vegetarian diet. I had always wanted to try this, and now I had to do it. I thank Midtown for launching my vegetariansim!) After eating, we loaded back into the van, got situated for our drive, and were on our way. I was feeling sleepy, so Alex went to the back of the van, so I could have one of the longer seats to myself. I laid down for a nap, covered myself with a blanket and propped my head on a pillow. I did NOT put on my seatbelt. None of us did when we were sleeping in the van.
The next thing I remember was waking up to the van swerving violently. I stood up straight in my seat, and then the scene goes black. Apparently, a deer had run out into highway traffic on 95, and Gabe, the lead singer of Midtown, who happened to be driving at the time, instinctively swerved so as to miss it. In that moment, control of the vehicle was lost, as the trailer jack-knifed, and the van skidded across the highway. With momentum, the van and trailer flipped, landing on it's side and upside down respectively. Once everything stopped, I was told that everyone inside the van looked around, making sure everyone was all right. They had all been alert enough to grab onto something and brace themselves, as the van swerved out of control. My boyfriend had hit his head pretty bad, but outside of that, everyone seemed okay. Right away though, they noticed I wasn't there! Heath, one of the guitarists, lept through a window of broken glass to find me. Apparently, I had been thrown approximately 40 feet, landing with my head between two rocks. It must've been a bloody scene, as my head had been scalped by the glass of the van's window, when I had been propelled from the van.
Luckily for all of us, traveling behind our van was a nurse. He ran over to us, and apparently stabilized me as best as he could. Soon, the ambulance came, and I was taken to William W. Backus Hospital in Norwich, CT. I was immediately treated for internal injuries and extreme bleeding. I had lost two thirds of my blood and required a transfusion. My lungs had collapsed, so tubes were inserted under my arms. My liver had been lacerated, and my stomach and spleen had both ruptured, so surgery took place right away. On top of that, my neck and right shoulder blade had been broken. I had lost so much blood, and my body had experienced so much trauma, that hospital staff didn't think I would live through the night.
My family was of course notified as soon as possible. They raced across landscape and time to reach me five hours later in Connecticut, from Binghamton, NY. They waited in anticipation of my condition, in what I could only imagine was horrible anguish. My uncle, a retired Fireman and Ambulance worker, tried to prepare my mom for the worst, as his hopes for my survival were pretty low. That night, a priest read me my last rights, prepping my soul for it's transition to the spiritual realm. I can't even imagine what my family must have been going through. In later years, my parents and friends have described to me their experiences and emotions during this time, and it breaks my heart. In a way, that time was easier for me, as I don't even remember it.
As it turns out, I deceived all odds, and actually survived this traumatic event in my life. I was considered "the miracle child" in the hospital. Though there are a few days that I don't remember at all right after the accident, time and light did start to slowly fade back into my consciousness. I remember my mom asking me questions, and me squeezing her hands. She asked if my grandma jo had been there with me at the time of the accident, and I apparently indicated "yes". I couldn't talk, because of all of the tubes down my nose and throat, but I do remember trying to write out answers with a pencil for her and the rest of my family. Interspersed in that time, I vaguely remember people visiting me, giving me their love. Old friends, extended family, and a few unexpected. Their presence was appreciated in more ways than they will ever know!
Eventually I was a little more aware and I was in a condition to speak. First, I remember my dad being in the room, and asking him what had happened. He assured me that everyone else, including Alex, was okay. Then he told me about the accident and about my condition. I wanted to see what I looked like, so my dad graciously brought me a mirror, but not without warning me of what I'd see. My long hair had been chopped, in order to rid myself of the twigs, glass, and blood that had made their home there, and I had a gigantic sewn up gash and bump across my forehead, reminiscent of frankenstein. I didn't look like myself, but I accepted it rather easily in my condition. What else could I do?
At this time, I also expressed to my dad what my first memories were following the accident. I told him that I could visualize Alex standing in some grass, away from me, with his hand on his forehead (where, unknowingly to me at the time, he had bumped it!). He was shaking his head and said "I love you, Stace!". This memory was so incredibly clear and fresh and pristine in my mind's eye. I can only make sense of it by declaring that it was an out of body experience I was having, when I envisioned him. As soon as Alex said he loved me, my soul came crashing back into my body. I felt it!!! And then there were flashing orange and blue lights around me, like stars circling my head and body. That's when I came back into human consciousness. I could hear the paramedics speaking to me, telling me what they were doing. And then I was on the gurney being transported into the ambulance. And I remember wailing "It huuuuurts!!" out loud, as I could feel my insides falling apart, and my chest heavy because I couldn't breathe. This is where my memory again fades to black........
Later on, Alex was able to confirm my memory of him standing in the grass. I was, and still am, absolutely confident that my spirit lifted into another realm, what I now refer to as "the spirit world", for a short time, shaking itself loose from the bodily trauma that I was experiencing. I don't ever remember questioning my will to live, while I was out of my body, but I do honestly believe that if Alex hadn't said those loving words when he did, my chances for survival might've been slimmer. I will always be grateful to him for "saving my life". I really believe he did.
I stayed in the hospital in Connecticut for about three and a half weeks. It was then decided that I'd be transported to Binghamton, in order to make things easier for my family and loved ones. Alex's dad slowly drove me home in the freezing cold in their minivan where I could be situated somewhat comfortably for the long ride. It was awful. And the coming months, healing at home, were awful. I was in ridiculous amounts of pain. And I was severely depressed. I was eventually referred to a therapist, who after talking to her about my out of body experience, told me to read a book by Dr. Brian Weiss called Many Lives, Many Masters. Reading that book changed my life!!
I still had a long road ahead of me though. I didn't work for six months. And my depression didn't leave me for years. Still, I had the support and love of so many around me, and I will forever be grateful for that. My vulnerability allowed for the deepening of some of my relationships. And I was able to encompass so much more compassion for others, due to my own experience. I realized that I wanted to do more in my life than paint upholstery patterns (what I went to college for). Instead, I wanted to dedicate my life to helping people. So, that became my mission. I wasn't sure how I'd get there, but I knew I would. My twenties were a time of growth, and my accident at the age of 22 was the true catalyst. I've changed my mind, as to my soul's purpose, many times over the years. But, here I am now, a Certified Soul Coach and Past Life Coach.
It's amazing, how going through the most traumatic events in our lives can sometimes bear the biggest blessings. I would never wish my accident with it's physical and emotional scars on anyone. Yet, I am so thankful for having lived through it myself. I am a better person because of it. I am kinder, more loving, stronger, and more courageous than I ever could have been. Though I suffered from Post Traumatic Stress and depression for a long time, thanks to my experience, my aptitude for Joy and Love and Thanks is so much deeper.
Ten years!! I am so thankful for all that I have learned, and processed during this time. Now, I am ready to flip the pages and start a new chapter. Today is a new beginning, and I am so thankful for that. Thank you to all of those that have been by my side through the years. I love you more than I can say.
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