On Witnessing An Accident — By Tommy Purser

I was driving out Coffee Street in the left lane Thursday on my way to the Jeff Davis-Dodge County baseball game in Eastman.
As I passed Coleman Tire and Auto, I quickly glanced into my rearview mirror as I approached the traffic light at the Dairy Queen.
When my eyes returned to the road, I saw an impact followed by two vehicles spinning around wildly in the intersection as pieces of the automobiles flew through the air. It happened so quickly I couldn’t tell which driver was at fault. All I knew was that the collission was horrible looking.
Not wanting to block the intersection, I drove around the wreckage and pulled to the side of the road to get out and see if I could help.
As I left my truck, I tried calling 911 but got no answer. Obviously, with the busy intersection, there were probably a couple of dozen people flooding the 911 center with calls. I spotted two women leaning into the back seat of one of the vehicles. They emerged with a young boy in their arms and I ducked my head into the front seat of the vehicle. There I found a young girl in the passenger seat. She appeared to be a school age pre-teen. She just stared at me blankly, stunned from the wreck which sent the airbags crashing into her face.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“No,” she replied weakly.
“Where do you hurt?”
“My arm hurts.”
Then she stared into my eyes with a hollow, faraway look and said, “I need help.”
“The EMTs are on their way right now,” I assured her. “They’ll help you.”
As I turned away, I came face-to-face with the driver who, I assumed was the two children’s mother. She had left her young son in the care of a woman and had returned to the car to see about her daughter. The mother had an abrasion on the right side of her forehead that I was sure would turn ugly in a few hours.
As she rushed by me to her daughter, I moved to the back of the vehicle and spotted a woman holding the young boy in her arms on the side of the road, rocking him back-and-forth apparently to calm him.
“Somebody help me, he’s bleeding,” she yelled frantically.
Someone took the child and laid him on the grass lest the back-and-forth rocking further damage whatever injuries he had.
An officer had already arrived and as I turned around I found the intersection quickly filling up with emergency vehicles — police cars, deputy cars, a fire engine, an EMS ambulance, and the Sheriff ’s vehicle.
As Sheriff Preston Bohannon got out of his vehicle I directed him toward the young boy on the grass who was being attended to by another officer. The Sheriff got down on his knees, patted the young boy gently on his chest and said something to him I could not hear.
When he returned to where I was standing, I realized I was just in the way.
“I’m going to leave and get out of y’alls way, Preston,” I said.
“Okay,” he replied. “Thanks for your help.”
I really hadn’t been much help. In fact, I felt helpless. But as I drove on toward Eastman, I reflected on how quickly our community’s first responders arrived on the scene. I
commend them all.
I don’t know how extensive the injuries were to any of those involved in the accident. But I do know that the terrified look in that young girl’s eyes as she stared into mine will stay with me for a long time. I pray that she and everyone else involved will have a full recovery.