Several years ago, when I was on patrol, I received a call for police assistance regarding a car/motorcycle crash. My partner and I responded to the location. When we arrived, we found a male subject lying face down in the ditch. It was the motorcyclist, who was pronounced dead at the scene.
We noticed the car with heavy damage to the passenger side door. The motorcyclist had come over a hill, just as the car was pulling into a driveway on the road. The motorcyclist was speeding. The driver of the car could not avoid the collision in time, and the motorcyclist hit the side of the car at full speed.
The driver was white as a ghost. He appeared to be in total shock. Shock is not rare in such a situation, but this man appeared to be in a trance. He stared blankly as he recalled what had happened.
He explained, “I’m from over 150 miles away from here. I drove north to meet my friend, at this house. I was just pulling into his driveway when the motorcycle hit me. We were planning a fishing trip to Canada. I haven’t been here in a long time . . .”
The man was in “the Zone” and I wasn’t about to interrupt him. I couldn’t identify what his stare was all about, though. All I knew was that something was very wrong. It was as if he’d had his own near-death experience.
“When the motorcycle hit my car, I saw the man’s body fly into the ditch. There wasn’t anything I could have done to avoid it.” He was shaking his head slowly as he spoke, as if I wasn’t there. “I get out of my car, but suddenly I see my sister-in-law running down the road. She is screaming. She is running to the man in the ditch . . . my SISTER-IN-LAW!” The man hesitates.
“Officer, I thought it was a dream . . . I thought, how can this possibly be? My sister-in-law, she lives downstate, over a two-hour drive from here. I thought I was seeing a ghost. Then . . . it all suddenly dawned on me . . .” The man’s voice trembles and trails off in silence, as I’m trying to comprehend what he is saying.
He sadly utters, “That was my brother on the motorcycle.”
I said, “What?”
He continued, “I knew we each had a friend in this area, but we never knew each other’s friends personally. We had no idea we’d both be here today. I haven’t even seen my brother in quite some time, because we live so far apart from each other. I can’t believe we’re in this same town together! How could I be here just in time for him to hit me?”
I stood there, astonished, feeling great sadness for the man. As we sorted things out, I learned his brother was helping a friend repair his motorcycle. He was simply test riding his friend’s motorcycle when the accident occurred. Neither brother knew they would see each other. What were the odds that a man kills his own brother in an accident so far away from both of their homes?
What were the odds that this could happen?