Firestone Tires

 Non-fiction by Andrew Egan  

            Death flashed before our eyes on the trip that was supposed to be a vacation. It had started like every family trip we had taken since I can remember. We woke up at six in the morning because we would drive all day and get to San Diego at eight that night. The sun was just rising over the hills on the horizon and we were outside on a warm summer morning packing our luggage into the family minivan. As we got onto the road we had to make the usual stop at Starbucks to get two lattes so my parents could wake up this early in the morning. We got on to I-5 and started heading south. The thirteen hour ride had just begun and my stomach was already turning and I felt like I needed some fresh air. So my dad, never wanting to even slow down, just rolled down the window and 60 mph wind came flying into the car instantly making me wish I had never said anything.

            By this time in my life, I was ten years old, I had traveled this road so many times before I had markers set in my mind to tell me how far we had gone. We came up on the Ashland exit and I thought to myself, “Only twelve and a half more hours to go.” As we continued we hit the next benchmark in my mind which is the California/Oregon border. I always thought how stupid the people were that had to stand at the border and ask every car if they had any fruits or vegetables. They had to have the worst job in the world. Their dialogue for the whole day went as follows;

“Hello, do you have any fruits or vegetables in your car today?”  

“Nope.” The person in the car would say, whether he did or didn’t have any fruits or vegetables.

“Have a nice day.”

 

Now for me this was the worst job you could have on the planet. Stand there all day in the ugly orange vest that they have to wear and say the same two lines over and over. So every year I would ask my dad why those people would stand there when you could lie to them and no one would know. “Well Andrew, these people just trust that people will be honest and tell the truth.” I would never pursue deeper into that answer because I knew that if I did I would get a big speech on honesty and integrity and I really was not in the mood for a speech.

After this marker I didn’t have another one until the green signs on the side of the road started saying, “ San Diego 1000000000000 miles.”

We continued on and by this time we were into the great state of Jefferson . Or at least we were into the part of California that most of California doesn’t want anymore. We drove past the tin cow that sits in an empty field and this was a big moment for me on this part of the trip. I would spot it out as far down the road as I could and watch it come closer until it was even with us. Then I would watch it out the back window until it was out of sight. I was so incredibly bored by this time that all I had to do was watch that tin cow come and go. For the next five hours of the trip all you could see was farm land that didn’t seem to be farmed on and the occasional cow pasture. I would pass the time with my brother by seeing who could say the alphabet first by seeing the letters on something outside of the car. We would always get in big fights over who said Q first on that semi-truck’s license plate. Then we would beat each other up and be yelled at by mom who is trying to read the newest Sue Grafton murder/mystery novel.

As the day wore on everyone’s nerves were frayed and Conner, my brother, was sitting in the very back seat because mom put him there after one of our fights. It is about nine o’clock at night and we are closing in on LA. This was always the worst part of the trip for my dad because he hated driving in heavy traffic; and on I-5 through LA it is rush hour 24 hours a day. I always loved driving through LA because there is so much to see and you can always see the businessmen in their super expensive cars. There are tall skyscrapers everywhere and so many different types of people with different languages that you never get to see in Medford , Oregon . While we are stopped in the traffic jam I thought that I was in heaven because there was a brand new Dodge Viper in front of us and to the left of us a BMW Z3. I always was nervous though because of the motorcycles zooming between cars to beat the traffic. Even when I was ten I could see that one tap from a car and that biker is going to be thrown from his bike and could be run over. And I didn’t want to see biker guts.

We were towards the south end of LA so the traffic started to lighten up. We were in the far left lane and going about 55 mph. There were two huge semi-trucks behind us and cars packed in all around us. My dad had the cruise control on and was leisurely driving down the interstate. It was a normal point in the trip until one explosion that threw our lives in danger. In the middle of I-5, in always traffic-filled LA, we had blown a tire. We were skidding so bad that it felt as if we were on a sliding plate of steel. I looked behind us to see sparks flying everywhere. I saw all the cars behind us slow down and back off because of the shower of sparks coming from behind our car. My mom was sitting in the passenger seat and immediately turned around to try to hold on to Conner and me. You could see the terrifying look in her eyes as she could see behind us out of the window the sparks flying everywhere. I believe my mom had her life flash before her eyes because of the way she held and looked at my brother and me. My dad kept his calm and instantly started to move the car towards the right shoulder. Luckily all the cars around us gave way so that we could move over. The steering wheel was shaking because we were on one rim and I could see my dad struggling over it to get it steady. As we moved to the right my mom’s grip on me lessened as she came to realize everything was going to be ok.

We came to a stop right in between the highway and an exit ramp. When we stopped everyone in the family let out a collective sigh, because we had been holding our breaths for the last couple of seconds. Without a word my dad stepped out of the car and began putting on a new tire to replace the blown one. My mom must have asked me if I was all right about twenty times before she believed me. When the new tire was on, we continued towards San Diego at a slower pace because of the nerves everyone was still feeling after the near miss with tragedy. When we arrived at our hotel, it was about midnight and we were just in time to see a meteor shower come down over the Southern California sky. And for the first time in my life I realized how fragile life is, and how quickly it can be taken from us. For the first time I enjoyed a simple bed to sleep in. I enjoyed being alive.                

Andrew Egan, Age 17, Contact: egan4@charter.net 
Copyright 2003 Andrew Egan
Reviews and comments requested

Posted 05/07/2003