A prologue of sorts.
It was a beautiful day. This was nothing unusual in a string of beautiful June days. I had preformed the night before with my friends Jono Yowell and Mark Dershaw. Both are extremely talented musicians and remarkable people. I have made music with a tremendous number of people over the years and certainly felt grateful whenever I was working with Mark and Jono. They are great players. We had played at a little place in the quaint village of Fairport Harbor called the Lyric Bistro. We had a fairly good night, not one for the ages, but a couple good moments, shared with a receptive crowd.
I had just gotten off the phone with a dear friend, Martin Stansbury. Martin has helped me with my last two recording projects, mastering “Hometown Blues”, and producing, engineering, mixing and mastering “Haunted”. Martin and I had been talking about my desire to change my performance routine and focus on more listening venues.
I had been doing about 75-100 shows per year. The majority were local wineries and I had been working to shift to a preponderance of community concerts, listening rooms and house concerts. Over the past few years I had been making good progress with this regard, performing not only in Ohio, but also a half a dozen nearby states. As you might image there is a great reward associated with performing at a house concert or a good listening venue.
I came downstairs from the loft studio in my barn and made a conscious decision to move my instruments and gear from my Ford F150 to my little “gig” car. A 21 year old Toyota Rav 4. I remember making this decision, and I had some feeling it was a significant choice, and it was. Less than an hour later, my gig car had a mechanical failure which resulting in a horrific crash with a tractor trailer. This occurred on I-90 at the Varooman Rd access ramp on the edge of the Paine Creek valley.
One of my friends believes this valley is a “thin place”. A place where the spiritual dimension is close to this world. I don't profess to have any insight on such thoughts, but I can attest to a significant number of suicides and accidents that have occurred in this valley. I even referenced Hell Hollow in my song “Haunted”, which happens to be the name of my fourth album.
As I was merging onto the highway, a semi was in the left lane. A unusual service light came on and the car swerved toward the truck. I reacted by pulling the steering wheel hard to the right. I remember skidding through gravel toward the guard rail. Evidently, my car bounced off the guard rail and directly into the path of the semi.
I had a few brief moments of lucidity. One occurred when I was in the back of an ambulance when my sister in law suddenly appeared. I remember telling her I thought that I broke my shoulder. The second occurred when my wife appeared at the Tri-Point emergency center. She was telling me that I was involved in an accident and was going to be taken to the University Hospital in a helicopter.
I did break my left shoulder blade, clavicle, sternum, and a half dozen ribs. I also a fractured ankle, incurred four fractures in my pelvis, lacerated one of my kidneys, and had a brain bleed.
MJ and her sister were heading to the winery where I was scheduled to play that afternoon. Unfortunately they drove through the crash scene. Lori pulled her car off the road and told MJ to stay put. She climbed into the ambulance and spoke to me before the EMT’s chased her out. She and MJ followed the ambulance to Tri-Point where I was transferred to the helicopter. And that is when MJ talked to me.
I found out later that the wreck was captured on a video camera on the truck. An Ohio State Patrolman told me that he had never seen anyone live through a wreck like that.
And so begins this story of recovery.