During the summer holidays between primary 3 and primary 4 - I guess that would make me about 7 or 8, the family holiday involved a long car journey from Dundee to Devon. Apart fro the usual " are we nearly there yet", I don't remember much about the journey south, but what I do recall was the mind numbing boredom of mile after mile after mile, punctuated by fuel, food and toilet stops. With hindsight, I have to give full credit to my dad for such a long drive without complaint from him. The car; well it was a two tone green Vauxhall VX490, ATS 960B. Why or how I can still remember the registration number is beyond me, but perhaps I was destined from an early age to become a traffic cop. Maybe this crash was the reason that 40 years later I would become a crash investigator. Maybe it's just the way life pans out.
The downward journey - let's refer to it as such, since maps are printed with north at the top, and we were definitely going down the map - was split into two legs, with an overnight stop at Weston Super-mare. The second and to those who know or care to check, was significantly shorter and by lunchtime on day 2 we were there. Arrived.
Lots of fun in the caravan, since rain curtailed the outdoor variety but somehow I still enjoyed the week (or was it a fortnight), including the trip to Plymouth swimming baths - see post about the power of money - aug 2013.
However the lowlight of the holiday, and purpose of this post is the incident that happened on the way home.
We decided to leave early on the Saturday morning, not wanting to spend any more time in the rain that had plagued the holiday, so packed everything up ( well mum and dad did) and set off for Scotland. As usual, I sat in the back if the car, behind dad and instantly began munching the sweeties I had bought with the money earned from "swimming" a length at the pool.
Before we even left Torquy, we approached and started to drive through a crossroads junction (on a green light - I hasten to add) as another car completely ignored a red light and tried to cut across in front of us. This I learned after the event, cos I was hiding behind dads seat not sharing my sweets with my sister.
The impact was significant and although I felt no pain, I went through a wired sensation and my immediate thought process was that we had hit a lamppost and we were now vertical. Don't ask me why my mind said that to me, but it did.
The next thing I was aware of, was turning around to look at my sister and her face turning white as she saw the mess I was in. Her scream frightened me more than the crash.
At this point, I still have no idea what has happened, or even that I've been hurt.
Next, mum looked around and joined in the screaming. I thing I would have joined in too, but my jaw was broken and all of my bottom teeth had been flattened back, trapping my tongue so speaking was somewhat problematic.
In what seemed like only a few seconds, an ambulance arrived and still with no real idea of what had happened to me, or just how injured I was, I was whipped off to hospital along with the rest of the family.
Thankfully mum, dad and Gill were relatively unhurt - bar a few cuts and bruises, but yours truly - thanks to the absence of rear seatbelts and the coming together of my face and the back of dad's seat, was in somewhat of a mess.
In the hospital, I was more concerned with not being at home for the arrival of my swimming certificate, but this message could only be conveyed by writing on the apron of the nurse that stayed with me till theatre was ready. I managed at one point to use the bathroom and sneaked a glance in the mirror. I wish I hadn't. Some people feel the same about looking at me now, but that's a different matter.
Well the surgeon worked wonders and fixed the jaw. He even put back all the knocked out teeth and held them in place with a metal brace which covered all my lower teeth - front to back and side to side. I was the original model for "Jaws" from James Bond.
After a few days in hospital, we all faced a long tedious train journey home - thanks to the car being written off - aware that most other passengers couldn't keep their eyes off this sad and sore looking little boy with a very swollen and bruised face who couldn't eat anything all the way home.
Over 30 years later I was working not far from Torquy and made a point of visiting the crash site. Nothing had changed. Still exactly the same - including the wall of the house on the corner that had been knocked down by the other driver after be rebounded from our car. Clearly ours wasn't the last crash there as the recent repair showed.
Drive carefully y'all.
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