Interested in hearing about others’ experiences here. I was a boat captain for a little while so a few incidents stand out to me.
Main story - I drove a small auto ferry which could only take 3 cars at a time. There was a flimsy aluminum gate that lifted up on each side of the boat that allowed cars on and off the vessel. The front car has a tire chock to keep it in place, but other than that, not much. We were supposed to make sure they set their parking brake.
I went to the bathroom while loading the boat and entrusted my deckhand with this task, who coincidentally was my pos ex. She neglected to do so, but ultimately the fault was mine because I was master of the vessel. The front car lurched forward when I was about 300 feet out of the slip. It went under the gate and teetered precariously over the edge, its front tires pretty close to the water.
Everyone froze for what seemed like several seconds except for me. I screamed as loud as I could to my ex “GET THEM THE FUCK OUT OF THERE” because if you go into the water in a car your odds of survival are… not great to say the least.
My ex snapped to it luckily and got one guy out and I ran over to the other side and pulled the guy’s wife out.
luckily the middle car was a truck with a front tow hitch so we were able to quickly secure the car on the boat using a chain I had handy. It honestly was teetering and seemed like it was seconds from going in. Close call for sure.
The worst one for me is seeing my dad die on a gurney in a hospital but I won’t get super into that. That gave me PTSD. Years later, at the same boat job, a guy had a coronary on my boat and I was able to administer CPR until someone grabbed a defibrillator back on the dock and zapped him. He ended up being ok. But then when they were zapping him back my PTSD kicked in and brought vivid flashbacks and I had to take like 45 mins to get composed again.
Weirdly, the first story was a lot scarier for me. I have other stories about close encounters with death. Let me hear yours.
The first time I was 13 or 14 and at a friend’s house down the block from mine playing video games. He had an older brother (late teens-early twenties maybe) who was actually kinda cool for the most part, but this one afternoon came into the room where we were really agitated (i.e., completely coked out of his mind at 330 in the afternoon) and holding what I would learn later was a 357 mag. After some back and forth with his brother in a language I didn’t understand I stood up, I guess to leave or get out of their way, when he pointed it straight at my face. The room was small and they were both between me and the door with a couple of chairs around. I don’t recall what he said but I do remember actually standing up taller and staring at him in the eye while he pointed it at me. After a couple of seconds he lowered his arm and I bolted for the door.
The second time was in the parking lot of a Blockbuster’s video store. I was in my early 20’s, and it was lateish in the evening as it was dark outside. I was in grad school at the time and was wearing a bag I had thrown over my shoulder. I never left it in the car bc it had my data in it and I remember thinking that they could take the car (my parents 1988 gold Buick Regal) but not my research. So I’m coming out of the store and the lot is busy but dark. I have my keys in my hand as I approach my car door when a guy comes at me from the other direction holding a small revolver and says “give me your keys.” My instant thought was to drop the keys and kick them under the car but instead I sort of freeze but kinda stand up straight when he just turns around and walks away.
I wasn’t afraid at the time either event occurred but thinking about them every now and again does give me the chills. I’m a giant coward btw, who despite being relatively big, always avoided physical confrontations of any kind.
Also saw my dad very shortly after he died and I’d also say PTSD.
Scariest thing for me ever by far was in a river and my daughter who was about 12 at the time swimming and she was a good swimmer, was sorta taken by the current. I went after her and was right behind, but I really couldn’t help her other than by directing/encouraging her to swim to the side. I knew 100% certain that if she was going to drown, so was I. Anyway, she swam out and it was probably not really that close, but I was shook.
That was my oldest child. My youngest was born with a tiny hole in her heart. The idiots at the hospital put her on some machine for adults and told us shit that scared the hell out of us. We drove across town the next day with a newborn to a specialist who told us it was nbd, very common and will almost certainly close up on its own and it did. That was pretty scary too.
eta: If Bro reads this she will probably be mad. She’s indignant about it and swears that she was 100% fine and I was freaking out for no reason.
First was when I was around 19 and living in Connecticut. Was playing a winter round of golf alone, on a hole bordering a wooded area. Was strolling along when suddenly I hear firecrackers. Then again. But this time it was accompanied by a fast-moving projectile whizzing by my head. Then another. Yes, I was being shot at. I beat it the hell out of there and lived to tell the tale but needless to say I never went back to that course again.
Second one I was about 21. I had accompanied by father to Oakland, where he was visiting a friend. More interested in San Fran than Oakland, I took the train into the former and enjoyed one of the best days of my life. Evening came and I took the train back to Oakland. But I had no way to get in touch with my dad to have someone pick me up. I had a sense of how to get back to where we were staying, so I began walking. Big mistake. Let’s just say it wasn’t a nice neighborhood, and I was the only white person walking alone down the street for miles. A car full of gentlemen pulls up along side me. A guy in the back seat repeats over and over: “He’s walking? He’s walking???” Eventually they drove off. The rest of the way home I dodged from tree to tree trying to make myself invisible. That was my first and last visit to Oakland. I hear that SF is actually worse these days.
Most recent was about 10 years ago. Surfing on a relatively placid winter day. I usually wore a leash so that my board doesn’t get away from me, but today I was trying out a friend’s board, which didn’t have one attached, and it was a calm day with smallish waves breaking far from shore, and I was an experienced surfer so no problem. Big mistake. I wipe out on a wave that was small but more forceful than it appeared. My board gets whisked away and I’m a couple hundred meters off shore. I’m a strong swimmer, having competed in triathlons, but there’s a difference between swimming a couple thousand meters in a warm pool and swimming a couple hundred in the ocean with waves crashing down you, freezing cold and out of breath, a thick wetsuit on. Panic consumed me I was on the brink of drowning. I could feel my heart sinking, my last thought being that this isn’t how I wanted to die–as a result of being too lazy to fetch a leash. I somehow managed to pull myself together, calm my mind, catch my breath, and make it to shore alive. The board, by the way, washed up onto a pile or rocks, severely damaged. Ended up having to both fix and buy the board. An expensive mistake that almost cost the ultimate price.
Water is dangerous. I just posted my own near-drowning tale. And sadly, a friend of mine, actually the GF of my best friend, did drown several years ago in a paddle boarding accident, likely due to the same thing that almost claimed me–not having attached a leash.
You weren’t really in much danger here. I lived in West Oakland in the late 80s and I worked all though South Central in the early 90s, often in 100% Black neighborhoods. I had people on occasion say I was brave being there or think I was police, but they were never really no-go zones. My daughter that I thought was going to drown started college in Oakland and was absolutely fearless about neighborhoods. Too fearless though because she would catch the bus (greyhound or Flix Bus or w/e) in skid row at 2am. Skid row/Mission (Mission in LA, not SF) is legit insane at night. She lived in the Tenderloin in SF until driven out by covid.
Yeah, what I learned in the semi-near drowning experience is how, at least in turbulent cold water, just one bad second where you go under and lose your breath could be enough to lead to drowning.
Harsh. My mom is very insistent about a dnr and my making sure the doctors don’t keep her alive after she is unable to make decisions. It was a nightmare with my dad. So bad that the hospice/nurse/whoever they sent said it was one of the worst she had seen. Definitely some ptsd. With my dad though my mom was responsible for those decisions. With my mom, I will have to make them (I have medical power of attorney), hopefully not fighting with my brothers.
Have her get a POLST form signed by her doctor. I know people who put it on their fridge in case they are found unconscious. Paramedics won’t (shouldn’t) do CPR if it is clearly visible and signed.
As soon as the doctor explained the situation to me, I felt the decision had already been made. I was simply honoring my mom’s wishes, and I was fortunate to not face the potential conflict you described.
I’ve mentioned this once or twice here and on the old forum. I recently found an online article about the accident. Shockingly, they got all the major details correct. I still run through this shit in my head at times wondering if I could have done anything differently. But I’ve mostly forgiven myself and gotten over it. Coming up on twenty years now.
Days later, an article in a local paper shared the details around Ned’s death. The story depicted an account of Ned’s climb up Damnation with another climber named John Brochu. Both men were simul-soloing the route, as they had done many times in the past. They were approximately 1000 feet into the climb, beginning to navigate the final ice bulge 200 feet from the top when the tragedy occurred. John was in the lead followed closely by Ned. As John climbed over the final section of ice, Ned sank his ice axes into the ice bulge to anchor him while John cleared the section. At around 12:30 in the afternoon, his partner planted his left-hand ice axe into the top of the ice bulge and in the process, dislodged a 6 by 10 foot block of ice. Unbeknownst to John, lying just below the surface lurked a giant ice dam (1). What occurred next was catastrophic. Ned fell with the titanic block of ruptured ice, falling approximately 800 feet to almost the bottom of the gully. John at the same time, was forcibly ejected and “barn-doored” on his right hand ice axe and right foot crampon, only narrowly escaping a fatal fall. From his position, John watched Ned fall down the gully. The entire event occurred with such speed Ned had virtually no time to react.
John now realizing that Ned could still be alive and in need of immediate medical attention, continued up the remainder of Damnation gully, as descent at that point would have been almost impossible. Topping out of the climb, he raced south around the rim of Huntington ravine to the nearest down climbable gully, Central, descending it to come to Ned’s aid. Though we were climbing Central Gully earlier in the day, John was down climbing the route, on his way to Ned, well after we had already topped out and were on our way to Mt. Washington’s summit.
I watched my dad pass away when he was 39. I don’t think I have PTSD from it, but what sucks so so bad is how so much of my memory goes back to seeing him struggle and die in the hospital.
I really tried hard to be an adult and I told my dad what was happening until his very last moments of consciousness as kindly as I could but I told him that truth, and the truth sucked. I gave him a gentle hug–he was bloated and in pain-- and I just asked him some questions about if he was scared, which maybe I shouldn’t have done, but also just let him know that I appreciated everything he had taught me and the family. Others left when they took him off the machines, I stayed with him until the end.
Crying now thinking about this. The thing I really hate the most is not being able to have memories that aren’t yoked to the idea of someone no longer existing. And just naturally forgetting stuff over time, the actual influence of my father on my life decreasing, but having his last moments etched in my mind so clearly that I can tell you about the necklace the nurse who disconnected him was wearing.
You couldn’t have been more than 21 or 22, right? It sounds like you’re older from the story, but with your dad being 39 you pretty much couldn’t be. Man, I can’t imagine. Like, I have to live to be at least 70 because I don’t want my children having to worry about this until they are well well into adulthood.
Once when I was 17, my friend was driving us to a satellite town of Adelaide for an 18th party. We drove out along the freeway, it was absolutely hammering down with rain. My friend takes an exit off the freeway which terminates in a T-junction with lights. Light is green for us but my friend pulls up and just has time to say “don’t know which way to go” and a car comes flying straight through the red light in front of us at probably 70mph. Vivid memory of just this flash of movement through the rain. I did know which way to go, so if I’d been driving good chance we die.
Another time was driving with my ex out in the country and she wasn’t used to driving my car. Unwisely tried to overtake a semi on quite a narrow two-lane road with no hard shoulder, doing like 75mph/120kmph. Runs one set of wheels off the road, electronic stability in the car kicks in and pulls us in towards the semi, she overcorrects and starts fishtailing the car on the wrong side of the road next to the semi. After being frozen for a couple secs I yell STOP by which I actually meant “stop correcting the steering and point the wheel where you want the car to go” but she thought I meant “slam on the brakes” which also worked.
That’s all I got. Have been lucky to not be in any serious accidents or anything like that. Also never seen anyone die.
Bless you for such kindness sitting with him and sharing the experience as he passed. He was experiencing the transition from life to death whether you asked or not. I believe you being there helped lighten the burden of passage by empathizing so directly as he passed that he didn’t have to go through it alone. Someone there just to directly share what we are experiencing is sometimes all we can ask of another person, but it can make all the difference if they give it
Jbro, this is not the first time I admired your courage in sharing a memory that requires a great depth of grief, accountability, and forgiveness. I’m glad to hear you’ve made some peace, though I understand the measure of weight that may always sit on your shoulders. Thank you for sharing this story.
