Near Death Experience Part II

Not me, y’all. Seriously. If it were me I think I would just hide out in my house the rest of the week and hope it didn’t catch fire. No, these are different near death experiences. The first one happened last night, and the one after that I’ll talk about happened more than 30 years ago.

So last night I was at the stoplight of Franklin and Estes when the light turned green. I go, and immediately almost run into a car turning into Caribou coffee. Really, almost. As the person went before me, I saw in the glow of my headlights her leaning forward over her steering wheel, eyes bulging, a crazed look in her eye. And I thought (whether or not this is true), that this girl was willing to die for a cup of coffee. There is not a shred of doubt in my mind that she was, which was actually kind of weird. Because who would sacrifice themselves for a cup of coffee? Would I? Have I?

It made me think about all the times I’ve been in a hurry and pulled out a little too closely in front of someone or someone’s done the same to me, that I held my breath running a stoplight, or that I ran across the street instead of waiting for a crosswalk sign. I think I actually do it a lot more than I even realize because I feel like I’m taking for granted that something is going to stop me from getting hurt.

Now, on to the Near Death Experience that is actually really important and everyone should know about. Apparently last fall (thanks UNC for NOT advertising speakers), a guy came to campus who had survived the 1972 Munich Israeli massacre. He said that for years he had not talked about it, but that his children convinced him to tell the story, that he was one of the five survivors from the team. At 4:30 a.m. on September 5th, he and his roommate awoke to gunfire and the seizing of 11 hostages, none of whom would make it. I did not go to hear him speak but my friend Laura did, and this morning I was telling her about the Near Death idea, and she brought that up (Thanks!). She said that when he started talking he spent a lot of time talking about his room in the Olympic VIllages, how he had picked it when he got there and what it was like. She said that she sat there wondering why this was significant then she realized. If he picked a different room, he would not have survived. It was that decision that seemed small and insignificant at the time that ended up making all the difference. If he had chosen a different room, he would have been one of the hostages. They were able to escape because their room was in a location that allowed him and his roommate to leap out the window and essentially run.

I think maybe this week I’ll try and pay better attention to the chances I take and be more conscientious of why I’m taking them and if that’s such a great idea.