It all happened so fast. I started fishtailing over some black ice, and couldn't regain control of the vehicle. Before I knew it we were rolling.
I remember everything: thinking that if I hit the car next to me we would all die, glass flying sideways across my face as the vehicle was flipping, and the most vivid memory of all -- frantically reaching to see if my son was alive once the truck came to a standstill.
It's a moment I wish upon no parent. The first possible second I could I ripped my seat belt off, lunged into the back seat, threw off the debris that was covering my son, and screamed his name. But this is a good story. I don't know how, but my son was completely uninjured.
In the aftermath of the crash the inevitable questions started about what exactly happened. The truth is I've always been a pretty big follower of the 10% rule when it comes to speeding, thinking it was totally fine to go faster than the posted speed limit as long as it was within ten percent. This crash could not have changed my thinking more.
I replay that moment in my head - reaching back for my son not knowing if he was alive - and I sometimes envision the more morbid outcome. It makes me so sick to think about how many parents have experienced that horror as their reality.
We were lucky. And with this crash there isn't much that I had control of. But I did have complete control of how fast I was going.
Simply put: I will never speed again because I don't want to blame myself for the death of my child.
Speeding might not be the principle cause of an accident, but it certainly undoubtedly impacts the severity of the damage. There are so many variables with driving that you can't control. I know now that the rules of the road within my control need to be respected, if for not other reason than so there is no question on my part if the worst happens again.