e-ink

The saga begins

My accident was a week ago today. The time's gone quickly, except for the hassles I've had with the insurance details.

I immediately started the ball rolling with my insurance company, and then on Monday getting the ball rolling with the other party's insurance company. They were, after all, liable for the damage since the other driver took the blame and was ticketed for reckless driving.

When I talked to the other insurance company's adjuster, he indicated there was a question with the other driver's insurance and that maybe they weren't covered. He was going to get back with me as soon as he had an answer.

Tuesday came and went without any calls, and since it was production day, I didn't have time to pursue the company. Wednesday, I called the other company's adjuster and found that he was out of the office for the day. On his voice mail, he left instructions to contact another adjuster. I tried that, but also got his voice mail.

Just by "chance" I had to run home to pick something up, and I knew I wasn't going to be there for 30 seconds. Before I could leave the house, the phone rang. It was my insurance company, checking on how the other company was treating me. I let them know I wasn't happy and gave them the contact info for the other company.

Meanwhile, either Darla was car-pooling to her job or she was driving our car. That left me my bike to commute on.

Yesterday I again called both insurance companies and got only voice mailboxes. Not good. I left a detailed message for the other insurance adjuster with the timeline from the accident to the current time. I wasn't as unpleasant as I could have been, but the message was clear that I was unhappy.

Finally about the middle of the afternoon, he called me back and had good news. They were covering the repairs or whatever the case will be. I pressed for a rental car, too.

Shortly after talking to the insurance guy, the car rental company called to arrange a car for me -- anytime from Tuesday to Thursday next week. Again, I was firm that such a timeline would not do. The lady was nice, and said she'd try to get me something today. I was doubtful of that, but was relieved when she called today to say that the car would be delivered to town in about an hour.

So a week later, I finally have substitute wheels and have somebody looking at the damage to my truck. Hopefully soon I'll know whether or not it's totalled.

... the saga begins.

Our Protector

Darla commutes more than 35 miles one way for work each day, and I'm on the road a lot myself, so we frequently pray for safety while we drive. Those prayers have always been answered, and the Lord made sure we'd remember that yesterday afternoon.

After a month or more without any real rainfall, we had a tremendous storm yesterday afternoon in our area. It brought over an inch of rain in an hour or so. Strong wind gusts brought down numerous trees. The storm quickly passed, and I went out to get some photos of the damage. As I was out, I listened for any storm-related scanner traffic. Our fire and rescue departments were working two auto accidents, and I was headed to the scene of one of them on a back country road.

As I came around a curve in the road, I saw a Jetta coming the opposite direction in my lane. I had an embankment going up on my right, so I had nowhere to go, and my tires couldn't get much traction on the wet road. (An empty truck bed didn't help hold the tires to the road.)

The collision was inevitable, and it was quite violent.

My truck lost the front driver's side wheel and I plowed across the curve into a ditch. I put the truck in park and turned it off and got out to check on the other driver. I was afraid of what I might find.

I saw the Jetta down in a farm field, and the driver was climbing out the window. I quickly made sure she was okay, and I made sure she was the only one in the car. She didn't have a cell phone, so I went ahead and called 911 for law enforcement. Knowing the fire department was already committed, I assured the dispatcher that there were no injuries (both of us were walking around) and that I didn't think there was any fire hazard from leaking fluids. Because of that report, only a sheriff's deputy responded.

While we were there, the fire department was called to a third wreck, so I was glad we weren't diverting their resources.

Soon some nearby residents came to check on us after hearing the collision, and they were very helpful. They even gave me a ride home when everything wrapped up.

The girl was about the age of my younger brother. Considering the circumstances, she was very pleasant. She lived nearby and one of the bystanders got her husband to come down. It was her first accident ever. I'd been in a couple others, but never as the driver. Her nervous reaction, to my benefit, was to talk a lot. She told the deputy exactly what happened: she was driving too fast and in my lane on the curve. I confirmed her story, and she was eventually ticketed.

---

It's funny how fast the mind can think when something bad is happening. At the point I realized we were going to hit, my brain was in overdrive.

This is going to be messy. I wonder what kind of leg injury I'm about to get. I hope I don't get pinned because I'm going to need to check on that other driver... It'll be a long rehab, but I've done it with knee reconstruction before.

It continued after the initial jolt and several feet of momentum carrying the truck down the road.

There went the front wheel. That's not good. I'm not hurt, but I'm not driving away from this. I hope the other driver is okay. I had the bigger vehicle and I don't know exactly where I hit her front end. All right, just slide off the road. That dirt mound will stop me shortly. Huh. That was kinda soft earth I just plowed through... Hmm. My airbag didn't deploy.

---

Apparently the other driver must have swerved to her right at some point, because initially we were bound for a messy, full head-on collision. Instead, my truck must have ridden up her fender and come back down in a glancing blow. At some point, the wheel must have turned and the landing helped rip it off, where it went 15 feet or so to the side and stopped in the road.

The other driver's airbags never deployed either, which was a little puzzling. Her front end was damaged, but most of the damage was on the fender. The bottom corner of the driver's side windshield was broken and her left mirror was gone.

My truck was obviously worse off.

The loss of the wheel helped show that I was indeed in my lane when we collided. Some metal under truck on the left corner left a nice indentation on the asphalt and scraped the entire path as I plowed across the road into the ditch.

Not to scale

---

I got home to Darla, and of course, she was relieved to see me and hear the story. I had to scarf down a meal of baked chicken and saffron rice before heading out to the local homecoming football game. I was hungry, but of course had no appetite. The food was good, and I looked forward to the leftovers (which I've since enjoyed). I wasn't wild about having to go cover such a big game in such a state, but I did my duty and went.

Turned out the home team won (which I didn't expect). It was a perfect game to write about, with the local boys mounting a large comeback, tying the game with a long field goal with seconds left in regulation. They went on to win in the subsequent overtime. Four games into the season, the team has more wins than it got in either of the last two seasons.

I also didn't expect that the stressful coverage would help me relax and get my mind off the wreck, but it did. By the end of the game, just that was enough to make me glad I'd gone.

(In an interesting aside, the deputy who worked my accident was in a sheriff's department color guard at the start of the football game. We greeted each other with familiarity, and I told him I was glad I didn't prevent him from getting to the game.)

---

Considering what I know could have happened in the collision, I know the Lord was watching over me yesterday afternoon. Neither of us was really hurt. The other driver had a little blood on her neck where her seatbelt ripped the skin. I had no injuries, although I discovered a non-bloody seatbelt burn on my neck after I got home.

I may still get sore; we'll just have to see. But I know it could be worse, and I'm grateful.

Because he holds fast to me in love, I will deliver him; I will protect him, because he knows my name. Ps. 91:14

Back to the classroom

A couple weeks ago, a posted about my speaking gig at the local high school.

Well, tomorrow morning I'm going to the other of our two high schools to talk about photojournalism to two periods of the yearbook class there. So I'll be able to refine my little workshop with those two classes, and hopefully help spark some interest in photography with them.

After speaking at the other school, I had one student shadow me at a football game, which was kind of fun. Then I got a nice thank you note from the entire class. Not a bad experience for the speaker's fee I charged! :-)

The world at your fingertips

Austin at Il Filosofo has an intriguing post about an Italian who used the satellite images from Google Maps and Google Earth to discover an archeoligical site.

That's a man after my own heart, a world away.

I've mentioned my interest in ghosttowning before. One of the problems with visiting ghost towns is that the old towns are constantly decaying. Sometimes snow does them in, while others succumb to wildfires. Others just give in over time.

So when you set out to visit a ghost town, you don't always know what you'll find. Years ago, I discovered that I could scope out some ghost towns by using Terraserver's satellite imagery. (Some areas weren't in the Terra server, especially some of the more remote sites and definitely those located near U.S. military training ranges.) By looking at the area in the highest possible resolution, I could--like a good aerial recon analyst--pick out unnatural characteristics, such as buildings, roads, and mine tailings piles.

For instance, in the mountains of California, close to the Nevada border, there's a lot of mining activity. At Terraserver's aerial photos, I can see roads, a runoff pond from milling activity and a couple of buildings. To see the closeup, click here.

The dark part-oval at the top left is the (dry) runoff pond, laced with dangerous chemicals that were used to draw ore out of the dirt brought out of the mine shafts. The roads are pretty self-explanatory. Just to the right of the center, you see several small rectangles that are the mill and several outbuildings. (Between the trees that form both a sideways colon and a sideways exclamation point.)

Unfortunately, Google Maps--which is so easy to use--doesn't have enough resolution of the same area to match Terraserver (dinosaur that it is).

In the picture below, you see the mill remains in a view slightly north and east of the building.

This hi-tech research could come in handy next time I'm exploring the old West. I know for a fact it could save me a trip through rough country only to find that nothing remains of a town other than a few holes bored in the rock. (Although even those are interesting to me.)

Brooklyn, to any unit on the scene ...

When the FDNY responded to the World Trade Center attacks four years ago today, I tuned into Brooklyn dispatch on my scanner. I didn't have the frequency for Manhattan loaded, but many of the units responded from Brooklyn. When the first tower fell, our view of Manhattan was blocked, and we could feel the dispatchers' desparation on the Brooklyn frequency. That was un-nerving, because the seasoned dispatchers and firefighters rarely sound excited on the radio.

As we listened to news radio, we could hear that the tower had collapsed. At the same time, Brooklyn dispatchers were trying frantically to contact units on the scene.

Now as the result of a lawsuit, the city was forced to release tapes from their dispatch offices in Manhattan and Brooklyn. The files, which are very large, are available to download or stream at this website. I haven't listened to everything, and as the site warns, the tapes aren't for everyone. Indeed, you can hear the fear and confusion as the attack unfolds. Sometimes, the dispatch volume levels are very soft, while the field radios come through perfectly fine.

Check out the sound clips to get a feel for the fire department's response to this overwhelming emergency. When you do that, remember that many of those voices belong to men who laid down their life that day.

Other links:
My account of 9/11/01 and 9/11/02
World of Fire 9/11/01 reports
National Parks remember 9/11/01
Patriot Day resolution

Doesn't take long

Two weeks ago today, I responded to a mid-afternoon call for a fire in a mobile home park. I was sitting at my computer at work, typing schedules and rosters into the computer, so I could pick right up and go. While I responded, the chief arrived and reported heavy fire threatening other trailers and liquid natural gas tanks. He also notified the responding units that everyone was out of the trailer, which had been occupied at the time the fire started.

As I pulled off the highway onto the lane the fire was, an older firefighter flagged me down for a ride down the lane. He didn't want to get parked in so he rode in with me, although I parked short of the burning trailer to stay out of the way of the engines that were still coming.

I started snapping pictures of the blaze as soon as I reached it. I stayed back more than I sometimes would since a car sat feet from the fire, as did the natural gas tanks. Something sounding like ammunition also was cooking off. The fire engines arrived shortly, and once the hose was stretched with water flowing, the fire died down quickly. In looking at the time stamps on my photos, I took about 40 images in less than two minutes, from the time I arrived until the firefighters knocked down most of the impressive flame. I snapped another 30 or so shots during the overhaul process.

As the fire died down, we got a scare when there was a report that a child from the trailer was unaccounted for. Two searches of the trailer proved negative and everyone breathed easier.

If my memory is correct, it takes only 8 minutes for fire to complete engulf a mobile home. About half of the trailer was burning when I arrived, and the smoke had thickened and darkened noticeably in that time as the flame intensified. I wonder if the fire department got there about five minutes after the fire started.

10-4: over and out?

Seems like everybody knows about the so-called 10-codes that emergency personnel use on the radio after seeing them used in TV shows, but they may soon be a thing of the past.

Apparently, FEMA is ready to do away with the 10-codes, according to an Associated Press article.

In Virginia police-speak, a 10-50 means a motor vehicle accident. But head to Montgomery County, Md., and 10-50 becomes ''officer in trouble.''

Now the Federal Emergency Management Agency is recommending police and other emergency officials nationwide give up the varying numerical codes used to communicate quickly with each other, saying the shorthand can lead to confusion when different agencies respond to a disaster.

Along with the aforementioned example of different meanings, I know of several from my own experience. Growing up, 10-19 meant returning to the station. When I moved to New York, it meant the call required only one fire engine or ladder truck. 10-8 might mean "responding" in one place and "available to respond if needed" elsewhere.

Our local fire, rescue and police departments already seem to operate without the 10-codes, and I haven't noticed any problems. I would think that smaller local departments could ditch the 10-codes pretty easily, but others, such as the FDNY would be holdouts.

The FDNY uses its own 10-code system that seems to work quite well, but on its list of nearly 100 codes, only a couple dozen (maximum) see regular usage. Of those, several have national recognition, such as 10-75 used normally to signal a real fire.

But others are confusing. Aurally, what's the difference between "10-40-1" and "10-41" or "10-40-2" and "10-42"? Granted it's often clarified as "10-40 code 1," but it's still more complicated than necessary.

FEMA, which has been--rightly or wrongly--maligned the last few days, may actually have it right on this one. Why say "10-50" in three syllables when "wreck" would suffice?

Semantics

Apparently, it's not proper to refer to the victims of Katrina -- the ones seeking refuge in Houston and around the country -- as refugees. So says the Rev. Jesse Jackson (a Greenville, SC native, as the Greenville News is always quick to point out).

But the choice has stirred anger among some readers and other critics, particularly in the black community. They have argued that "refugee" somehow implies that the displaced storm victims, many of whom are black, are second-class citizens — or not even Americans.

"It is racist to call American citizens refugees," the Rev.
Jesse Jackson said, visiting the Houston Astrodome on Monday. Members of the
Congressional Black Caucus have expressed similar sentiments.

Even President Bush has said that the refugees are not refugees, according to the AP story.

Turning from the views of activists and the politically correct, the story then examines the word and how news organizations are handling it.

The 1951 U.N. Refugee Convention describes a refugee as someone who has fled across an international border to escape violence or persecution. But the Webster's New World Dictionary defines it more broadly as "a person who flees from home or country to seek refuge elsewhere, as in a time of war or of political or religious persecution."

The criticism has led several news organizations to ban the word in their Katrina coverage. Among them are The Washington Post, The Miami Herald and The Boston Globe.

Just when it seems the article takes the logical ground of letting the word define itself, it compromises. Columnist William Safire writes a weekly column about language, and the article closes with him as an authority of semantics.

"A refugee can be a person of any race at all," he said. "A refugee is a person who seeks refuge."

He first suggested using the term "hurricane refugees." After thinking it over, though, he said he would probably simply use "flood victims," to avoid any political connotations that the word "refugee" may have taken on in the current debate.

Meanwhile, astute bloggers wonder when the MSM will prohibit the use of the name Rev. Jesse Jackson in news stories--especially when there is real news to report (such as this)--because that term connotes a pathetic attention-hungry opportunist.

Vicarious traveler no more

For the last month, I've been following the travels of several blog friends, all of whom I've helped with some planning details. Through these friends, I've traveled Arizona and the southwest, the Rocky Mountains, and New York City.

I love traveling, having visited most of the United States at some point or another. (During a long stopover at Salt Lake City, my family rented a car and drove to Wyoming just to collect a new state.) I also enjoy reading maps, and studying the areas I've visited.

So when I helped Philip map an outdoors excursion, we spent hours online IMing as we looked at websites and I sent him JPGs from my 3D topo mapping software. This led to making Philip feel guilty about knowing too much about the terrain before getting there. Once on the Colorado ground, Philip's crew got stuck in a traffic jam, where I found him online via his cell modem. In a post trip e-mail, he tells of that frustrating event.

There had been a rock slide on I-70 the day before, so the cleanup was still going on, which backed-up traffic horribly. We were traveling at about one mile an hour with twelve miles left to go just on the interstate.

After I gave him two possible detours, both of which would take four hours, he and his friends made it to their destination in just under four hours. It sounds like the ridiculous detour did save some time.

When Austin and Melita decided to visit NYC, they asked for some ideas of things to see, in addition to the typical Manhattan tourist stops. For that, I had two years of experience living in the city to draw upon, and Austin and Melita were a good audience. They followed several of the suggestions and pounded an incredible amount of pavement in a short time. From the looks of things, they enjoyed the suggestions, too!

I also did some research for the Girottis, but what I was helping them with didn't end up fitting their itinerary or location well, but I still enjoyed digging through the resources I have.

All three trips have allowed me to enjoy new experiences and relive memories from my own trips, and that was a nice break, since I worked quite a bit during that span.

But after so much vicarious traveling, my wife and I took advantage of the long weekend just past and made a trip to NYC ourselves. I had a game on Saturday afternoon and we left from there. It was my first visit in a year and Darla's first since we moved two years ago. (I had to cash in on some vacation days last year, and Darla couldn't come.)

The weather was perfect, with low humidity and clear blue skies. We went in spite of the high gas prices, but we enjoyed gas mileage of nearly 45 miles per gallon on our trip up, and the NYC gas prices were basically the same as here in the Shenandoah Valley.

The trip was brief and full of visits with friends and a cruise past our old apartment. We were so busy that I took only two pictures the whole time. Nonetheless, we were refreshed by the fellowship with old friends. It felt not like we'd been gone for two years, but away from the city for a weekend.

To the classroom

In honor of all my family members and fellow bloggers who have recently returned to the classroom, either as teachers or as students, I am also going back to the classroom -- for today only, though.

At noon today, I'll be speaking to the photojournalism class at the local high school. I actually thought it was Friday, but the date got moved a couple times and it's today. That leaves me less than prepared. I've got plenty of thoughts swirling around in my head, and I've got a vague plan. I plan on a lot of interaction, since it'll be a small class, but other than that I've got four hours to figure out more of what I'm going to do.

That being said, I look forward to the opportunity, because I realize that I can be an ambassador for our newspaper and the craft of (photo)journalism.

Oh, and mother, forgive me. I have not prepared a lesson plan.