Between the age of 20 and 28, I had several serious, life-threatening motor vehicle accidents. All were at speeds in excess of 100kph (the greatest at about 150kph) and all were terrifying. I should have died in any one of these crashes.
Much is made of ‘at least it was quick’: what a load of crap. The cliché of ‘everything was in slow motion’ is horribly true.
I didn’t die (bleeding obvious) but I figure I’ve been through everything these poor youngsters did at Newrybar (except death).
Everything does slow down (as the mind speeds up?), you see the tree coming up and you duck. You look at the person next to you for the last time but you don’t see them as you’re desperately searching for a way out of this nightmare.
Quick? Your last moments stretch into an infinity. It’s not a pleasant experience watching your potential or (actual?) approaching death.
Decades later (if you lived) it’s still the stuff of nightmares. The point of this letter? A plea: please slow down, there is nothing in this world that needs you to die to get there!
Peter Roberts, Byron Bay
