Sandy's Diary

This is a sad entry of Sandy's, so if you don't want to go there...don't.


August 3 About the Bad Day

It was hot as hell as we were going through Arkansas on Interstate 40. Billy shouted back to me that the bike was over-heating, and that we should pull off for awhile. That was fine with me, since we had been on the road since we left Amarillo at daybreak. I was tired and achy from clinging to Billy for hours - and hungry too. I shouted into his ear that we should stop and eat. So we took the next exit onto Highway 9. Billy wanted to make it to the 9-10 fork before we stopped. There was a little town on Highway 10 that he knew of, and there was a nice cafe there.. It was pleasant on the winding back road, and a lot cooler, with trees hanging out over the road. Leaning left, leaning right as we took the curves....so nice...like slow dancing. It was right there at the 9-10 fork where it happened. We were already leaning left around a curve when suddenly the fork was there -like out of nowhere. Billy throttled down and we leaned even harder to make it. It was a dizzy blur, but we were fine until we hit the dirt and gravel on the outside. Suddenly the bike seemed to just disappear out from under us. It happened in a flash but I remember it like it was all slow-motion. I was still clutching Billy -my arms tight around his belly, and I could see these guard-rails zooming toward us. Billy's head slammed right into one of them -and something gashed my face. Then we were just lying there and I couldn't see much because of blood in my eyes. I remember seeing Billy's bashed-in helmet still spinning on the asphalt. I was trying to get up, but Billy wasn't moving at all. I didn't see the bike anywhere, but I could hear it idling somewhere down the hillside. They found it later, about 20 feet down the slope - upside down in a thicket of wild blackberries. Ironic, in that Billy and I used to go berry picking all the time. We would make cobbler and pig-out in front of the tube.

Some guy pulled up in a truck and called the sheriff in this town nearby. An ambulance came, and I rode in the back with Billy. I could see he was breathing but he wouldn't wake up. I remember trying to reach over - wanting to shake him - but I couldn't move my arm. Turns out it was broken. I never did feel any pain - guess I was in shock. They say I passed out somewhere along the way to the hospital. I was still groggy when they wheeled Billy out of ER and put him onto a helicopter - taking him to the trauma center in Little Rock. I guess I was delirious. I asked the doctor if they were taking Billy to heaven. Maybe that would have been better. Its been two months now, and Billy still won't wake up.