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CRASH DUMMY |
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We were faced with a 100 mile drive after
work, but it would be worth it. The
bachelor party was in Saginaw for a friend I had worked and roomed with on an
earlier assignment for the Michigan State Highway Department (MSHD). It was Friday, January 20, 1961, and
President Kennedy had just been inaugurated that afternoon. I was scheduled to take a civil
service examination the next day, but when I was young I didn’t worry about
things like that – I could sleep on the way home and Mike could drive.
"Home" was rental rooms about three blocks
from the MSHD office in Detroit. We
had just received word that day about the party and quickly decided to go. I had purchased a 1960 Ford Falcon
just two months earlier and planned to wear my new sweater and jacket, so I was
ready for the drive and ready for the January weather in Michigan.
Traffic on M-24 was light and we made good
time. We visited with Don and caught
up with things since we had last seen each other.
I didn’t know anyone else at the party, but still had a good time. With no girls, the party broke up
relatively early. We took a
one-third full vodka bottle and filled it with orange juice in case we needed a
little sip on the way home, and were on our way.
I got us out of the Saginaw area and well on
our way before we stopped for a cuppa and a bite.
While we were eating I started feeling sleepy and asked Mike if he could
get us home. He was fine with that.
He stayed for another cup of coffee and I
went out to the car. In the
passenger seat I was asleep right away.
Noise, movement, and then pain woke me up.
Mike had fallen asleep, drifted off the road,
and hit a parked car. Our car did a
180 and ended up in the ditch. Mike
hit the steering wheel and sustained a nose laceration and some body bruises. The crash peeled off the right front
fender and wheel, and the passenger door.
The dashboard crumpled down and broke my leg and the roof caved in and
snagged me just below my right eye.
My forward momentum used the snag like a knife to peel off the right side of my
scalp. Somehow the eye was
untouched.
Mike got out to check on me. He thought I was dead. He retrieved the bottle from under my
seat and threw it as far as he could into the woods. He shook me a little and I came to
long enough to tell him I had a “broken leg and a cut on my head”.
The car had spun in the right direction to
keep me in the car, but with the door and windshield gone, I had no protection
from the cold. I was bleeding profusely.
A good Samaritan stopped and sacrificed a
blanket to wrap me up. They then
went on to call for help. Medical
help was there within about 20 minutes.
We went to Pontiac General Hospital.
Mike was released soon after receiving some first aid and making
arrangements for transportation.
I have no memory of my removal from the
wreck, the trip to hospital, check-in, first aid, or even the work of the
plastic surgeon on call, who was an artist.
He took “before” pictures for insurance and proceeded to sew me back
together. |
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WARNING
The “before” pics are very graphic.
I have purposely left them out of this Ponogram so you will not see them
without warning. However, if you
want to view them you may by taking a positive action. Click
here to see the “before” and “after” pics on a separate page. Close (X) that page to return to this
Ponogram. |
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Before plastic surgery |
Three weeks after accident |
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WARNING
The “before” pics are very graphic.
I have purposely left them out of this Ponogram so you will not see them
without warning. However, if you
want to view them you may by taking a positive action. Click
here to see the “before” and “after” pics on a separate page. Close (X) that page to return to this
Ponogram. |
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Before plastic surgery |
Three weeks after accident |
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The next day a quack set my broken leg (more
on this later). I had a foot to
thigh cast and a pair of crutches for walking.
I don’t remember much about the hospital stay
– I was probably sedated or doped with pain medication. Seems like there was a “special”
nurse – wish I could remember. |
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In hospital |
Three weeks after accident |
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Typical |
Actual |
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1960 Falcon before |
After - note crumpled roof and dashboard and blood-soaked seat |
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My dad picked me up from hospital in his
Buick station wagon. He had borrowed
a gurney from the local funeral home and found that it fit in the back of the
wagon. I wanted to sit up for the
ride, but he insisted that I lie down.
My father was not very outgoing with his feelings, but once we were
settled in the car, he put his hand on my head and told me how happy he was that
I had survived and was going home.
Our apartment in Perry was upstairs of the
bank and had a tall set of stairs outdoors to reach it. Dad found a couple guys in the drug
store to help and they carried me up the stairs on the gurney. I guess they were a little surprised
when I got up and walked away on my crutches.
I was home for just two weeks but got very
antsy. The car had been totaled; the
new clothes had been blood-soaked and were cut off me in the hospital. The insurance adjuster visited me at
home and we came to a settlement.
MSHD agreed to let me come back to work in a cast since I had an office
assignment.
My room in Detroit was a short walk from
work, a restaurant and a bar. I got
quite proficient with the crutches, with a couple exceptions. A sleet storm posed one challenge. Another time one crutch got away from
me when I was ascending the inside steps to my room. The clatter brought my landlady
running – I thought she was going to have a heart attack. I was fine.
I was in the cast for 13 weeks. My leg withered significantly. I developed an ulcerated spot on my
shin that wouldn’t heal, even after an attempted skin graft. I was not given any therapy after the
cast came off. I walked with a cane
and had a limp for a long time.
Fortunately I was on light duty and my coworkers were tolerant of my limitations
when I went back to field work.
Eventually my leg got back to normal (pretty
much), although the thigh remains a bit thinner than the other one to this day. A combination of non-use of the right
leg for 13 weeks and extra-use of the left leg for that period was the source of
the difference.
In 1985 I developed pain and noises in my
right knee. A doctor said adhesions
from all the scars on my knee were pulling the kneecap out of position and he
should rework the scars and perform arthroscopic surgery to correct the
situation.
The surgery released the kneecap, removed the
loose cartilage from under the kneecap, and drilled holes in the kneecap to
promote cartilage replacement.
During this work, the surgeon found green material embedded in the scars, and
noted that the anterior cruciate ligament (ACL) was missing.
In a follow-up appointment I was allowed to
view the video of the surgery. This
was the first time I had a chance to see the inside of a part of my body. (Since then I’ve seen the inside of
my nose including voice-box, the inside of my colon, and dental work on live
video, as well as ultra-sound of my gall bladder, heart, and various organs.) I was prescribed physical therapy,
but even with that, it took me weeks to recover.
I still favor the right leg.
No medical doctor has confirmed this, but I
believe that the quack who worked on my broken leg in 1961 is to blame for
failing to clean the wounds before sewing up my knee (green material was
probably paint from the dashboard), and for improperly setting the break
(causing the ulcerated spot on my shin and the erosion of the ACL). Of course, the ultimate blame for all
of this goes to me, the crash dummy who decided to do something quite stupid.
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[Visitor number
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