Take a sad song and make it better
On Sunday, December 14th, I shared a picture of myself and the harp on Facebook and Instagram with the caption, “And, where might the ‘Happy Harpist’ be heading today? Stay tuned…” Eight days later, some of you may still be wondering as that post never received a follow up. This may not be a story that all will want to read, but for those who have reached out with phone calls and texts that have not been returned, and as I return to Sumter for the holidays, I feel it extremely helpful for me to share.
It was a slow Sunday morning, and I was enjoying some quiet time with my new five-month-old, Great Pyrenees/Australian Shepard mix puppy that came to live with me ten days prior. Jude and I were having a great morning filled with lots of coffee and frozen peanut butter treats. Afterwards, I prepared to go perform for a Christmas luncheon in Union, SC and Jude would stay at the house while a dear friend was coming to check on him and let him play an hour or two later. I kissed Jude, told him I loved him, and placed him in his crate with his favorite chew toy and off to Union I went.
The event took place at Woodland Plantation and the home was exquisite, to say the least. There were large nutcrackers adorning both the front and back porches with tables all over the lawn. A horse drawn carriage was ready to greet guests and take them to the house and Santa was even preparing to meet families on the front porch. A jazz band was tuning up on the front porch, and I was playing in the garden as people were traveling from the back of the yard to the tables set out front. I played for one hour and was then invited to stay but declined the invitation as I was anxious to get back to Jude in Clinton.
I remember thinking it strange that my friend had not updated me on how things went when she let Jude out, but I just assumed all was well. However, things were not well. For some unknown reason that will never make sense to me, Jude attempted to get out of the crate and became stuck in the door. When my precious friend arrived to let him out, she found Jude gone, passed away. She went and got help from neighbors, family and friends. My husband, Curt, was called and things began to move into motion. Curt called all three of my children and my brother, Garrett, and informed him that he needed to get to my house in Clinton before I did. You see, they all knew how I would receive this tragic and horrific news as this brand-new puppy was perfect. Perfect in every way. He was the one who rescued me. And all of this was taking place as I was playing Christmas carols for total strangers.
Curt and Garrett stayed on the phone with each other as they were making their way to Clinton. Both could see my location and Garrett informed Curt that I was moving from Union, and he was concerned he wouldn’t get to Clinton from Wellford, SC in time to beat me to my home. It became clear that he would not and he and Curt were trying to think of a way to get me to pull over in some fashion to buy him a little more time. Meanwhile, my home is now full of friends trying to figure out what to do next.
With my harp in tow, I was having a pleasant drive down Highway 72 and enjoying my favorite Christmas playlist. Looking up ahead, I noticed I was coming up on a crossroad with stop signs on either side of the road. There was a dark sedan approaching the stop sign on my left and in the span of what felt like a nano-second, he ran the stop sign and drove his car into mine. There was nothing I could do but surrender the wheel and pray, “Oh God, let me live!” My car spun 360 degrees before slamming into an old, dilapidated country store with a second story that hung over an underpass, where I landed. All my airbags had deployed, and I was completely unaware of where the second collision took place. I felt the back of the car airborne before coming to an abrupt stop. I was alive. Praise God Almighty, I was alive.
Garrett and Curt were now aware that I had come to an immediate stop and then Curt received a crash alert on his phone. Garrett headed in my direction.
I was trapped in my Chevy Equinox and knew in that split second that I was going to have to be cut out. How long would I have to wait? Will they hurt me? How will someone know to come? All these questions ran through my mind at once. But, when I smelled smoke and gasoline, I knew I couldn’t wait for anyone. I was going to get out of that car.
My right foot was stuck, and I could only pull up my left leg. Bringing my left leg from under my steering wheel and over the dash, rolling onto my stomach on top of the console, I kicked the passenger door with all my might and was able to finally free my right foot and crawl out of my car onto the ground underneath the country store. The first sight was the car that hit me and the horrific condition it was in. The driver was still in the car and there was no movement that I could see. Eventually, the driver’s door broke open, and the driver walked out with no injuries. A young, Hispanic man, unable to speak any English, made his way over to me and I flagged down the next vehicle that passed. His name was Mario and he, too, was scared.
Within moments, 911 was called and other cars began to pull over and see how to help. The first person that walked up to me was a co-worker at Presbyterian College. She and her husband were lifesavers. Another woman brought bottles of Propel and said it would help with shock. That verdict is still out, but I just went with it and thanked her. One woman asked if she could help me call someone and I had her call Curt. When he answered, I just said, “Curt, I’m okay, I’ve been hit and my car is totaled.” I couldn’t understand how he remained so calm when he shared, “Kip, I already have people on the way.”
The Clinton Fire Department were the first on the scene. After a brief conversation with one of the firefighters, I looked to the right and saw my brother, Garrett, walking towards me. How in the world did he get here so fast?
Garrett hugged me, assessed the scene, and said, “You are a miracle, Kipper. Now, come walk over here to the truck with me.” I assumed he was going to do the brotherly bit and tell me all the things to say and not say, who to talk to and who not to talk to. But, instead, he had me lean up against his truck and he shared the horrific and unfathomable news of my dear, sweet, perfect Jude. I forgot about the wreck and my world broke into a million pieces as I collapsed into his arms. Meanwhile, the ambulance had pulled up and events were still in motion with the aftermath of the wreck. I refused to go to the hospital for my foot, at the time, and just wanted to talk to Curt, see the police, and get this mess over with.
After hobbling out of the ambulance, I look up to see my neighbor from Clinton and fell into his arms. He had left everyone back at my house to come to the crash site, once Curt called them to inform them of the wreck. Chaos was everywhere and the world just didn’t align in a way that made sense to anyone. It was at that moment; my attention went to the state of my harp.
I had survived a deadly collision, my perfect puppy was gone, and I was about to check on the state of my harp. My harp, which is just as much a part of my being as my arms and legs was pulled out of the back of my car, miraculously, without any injuries, other than one popped string. However, I was so broken in spirit, that I struggled to see the magnitude of God’s amazing grace and mercy in those moments.
Next, I remember Garrett on the phone with Curt and I had him tell Curt to just go on to Clinton. I was ok and had lots of people to help me, but I needed someone to be with everyone at my house and to put things into place to bury Jude. He did just that. And, not only did they bury that perfect puppy, but they cleaned my house of all the things that would hurt to see when I arrived at home.
Two SC State Troopers finally arrived at the site and immediately began talking to the other party’s family, who were now present, in attempt to translate. There was one older man who could translate for him, and he promptly informed the officers that Mario admitted to having had one beer. A field sobriety test was performed, and Mario was put into handcuffs and placed in the back of the officer’s car. We later learned that while he passed the field sobriety test, he was charged with failure to stop at a stop sign and driving without a driver’s license.
My oldest daughter had arrived on the scene and was such great comfort for me while all of this was transpiring. A co-worker from PC, my brother, my neighbor, my daughter. God had placed them all there for me in this scary and tragic time. And, now Curt, too, had arrived at the scene and I fell apart in his arms for what seemed like an eternity.
I then remember the tow trucks arriving, his car being lifted onto one and my car was pulled from out of the underpass of the store and loaded onto the truck. A total devastating loss of pieces of machinery, but two lives were miraculously spared that day.
The six minute drive to my house seemed like hours. Arriving at home and without much recollection of moving from one point to the next, the door opened and my home was full. Full of neighbors, friends, family, all my children, my entire community. And I then look up to see my precious friend who had come to let Jude out. She was broken and I was broken with her.
I don’t remember much of the rest of that afternoon until Curt decided it was best if I go to ER and get checked out completely. A short time later, we were home with only medications for extreme soreness, bruising, and a bad foot sprain. Truly a miracle.
My Clinton community came out in droves with meals, flowers, amazing acts of kindness, gift bags, along with calls, texts, and even silence when needed. My daughter, Laura Ruth, has been an amazing caregiver and has tended to everything. My other children, Eliza and Sam, have been so good about calling to check in on me daily. And, Curt, well, there are no words for what he facilitated that day and how he has taken such amazing care of me. I know it was hard for him to return back to Sumter and leave me here. However, it has been difficult to imagine riding in a car all the way to my Sumter home, so time here in Clinton has been extended. And, as I begin to prepare to make the trip to Sumter tomorrow, I find myself in awe of God’s provisions, His unwavering love, and the grace and mercy He extended over me that horrible day, even in the midst of the tragic accident that took place at my home.
A friend shared with me that dogs don’t possess the concept of time in a fashion that they know you have loved them for years. They simply know you love them in the moment and a treat is on the way. I pray that Jude felt the most amazing love I could give to him in those ten days, as I know I will forever remember the amount of love he gave me. Getting behind the wheel of a car will come in time, and things will get back into the rhythm my life requires. But, as for a new puppy, well, that will require auditions, because, as said before, Jude was perfect. Until that time comes, I will continue to pray for peace over my wounded heart and sing the lyrics of my perfect puppy’s namesake, “Hey Jude, don’t make it bad. Take a sad song and make it better!”