From Journal Entry 8/8/02
My husband and I are in our Suburban. We're four-wheelin' in a canyon. The ride is smooth, the scenery beautiful. We're both engrossed in the scene and we don't notice the drop up ahead. It's too late and my husband jumps out. In slow motion, I prepare myself for the fall. I say, "Okay here we go God." As the vehicle slowly hits the canyon floor, I release my seat belt and fall to the ground about 50 ft. I think I have survived. I do not move.
This dream felt so real that I didn't ignore it's warning. I kept the dream in the forefront on my mind. My husband and I got married on Christmas Eve in 2002. We decided to go to Vegas for our Honeymoon but not until April. We happened to be in Vegas Easter weekend. We left Vegas on Easter and headed back home.
We had just acquired a 1987 Four Runner a week before our trip, and decided at the last minute to drive it. We were on the I-40 East and we were 3 hours from home. When we got to the exit for Flagstaff we pulled over and flipped a coin. Heads we go home, tales we go to Flagstaff. It was tales, so we drove on to Flagstaff.
When we got to our Hotel Monte Vista in Flagstaff, we talked about waking up in the morning and driving on to the Grand Canyon. We went out to dinner where I had a couple glasses of wine and we went to the bar inside the hotel. We had conversation with the bartender and he told us the hotel was haunted. My husband shared with him how his grandfather was a bartender at the same bar back in the day. We only stayed a short time and headed back upstairs to our room.
That night we got the video camera out and my husband video taped me jumping on the bed. I played on the ghost stories we heard earlier and began mocking the spirits. (I was foolish and drunk.) I remember lying down and getting back up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. I was feeling sick. I don't remember anything after that. I had blacked out and my husband was holding me calling out my name when I came to. He said it scared him so bad he wanted to call 911. I had told him not to.
The next morning I was still groggy and had a pounding headache. I just wanted to go home. We packed our things, ate breakfast, and left. We were southbound on the I-17 30 miles when without warning our left rear tire blew. We began flipping several times. It seemed like it was happening in slow motion. I remember grabbing the handle above my window and saying to myself, "Okay here we go God." The roof "V"ed in and the driver's side window shattered. My husband hit his head on the roof and his elbow grinded against the asphalt. When the vehicle finally did stop we just looked at each other and said, "Are you okay?" We were amazed that we alright. We released our seat belts and climbed out through the broken windshield. A woman was racing toward us shouting, "Is everyone okay?" She happened to be an off duty nurse.
We were both taken to Flagstaff Medical Center where my husband spent 3 days in ICU. The steel from the roof of the Four Runner had left him with a huge gash to his head with his skull exposed. His left elbow had been grinded down to the bone. I only had a small bruise on my shin. The nurses were in disbelief that I had no injuries from such a violent accident.
Reflecting back we were very fortunate to be alive. Because we drove an older model Four Runner it had the Roll Bar in it. The four runner had flipped a total of 5 times. During the event it landed on top of the guard rail, and proceeded to flip down the highway. If we had gone over the guard rail, it is a straight drop down to the canyon floor. My husband shared with me the story of how his grandfather (the one who had worked at the hotel bar) had died on that same stretch of freeway in an automobile accident. I told my husband I felt a presence with us that day. Maybe it was his grandfather.
Reflecting back we were very fortunate to be alive. Because we drove an older model Four Runner it had the Roll Bar in it. The four runner had flipped a total of 5 times. During the event it landed on top of the guard rail, and proceeded to flip down the highway. If we had gone over the guard rail, it is a straight drop down to the canyon floor. My husband shared with me the story of how his grandfather (the one who had worked at the hotel bar) had died on that same stretch of freeway in an automobile accident. I told my husband I felt a presence with us that day. Maybe it was his grandfather.
Whether or not mocking the ghosts from the night before had anything to do with the accident, I don't know. One can only speculate. Needless to say I have respect for the dead now.
