In the wee hours one morning in April of '95..southbound..inner loop of the beltway..my husband, a friend and I were on our way to the big celebration for my grandparents' 50th anniversary/vow renewal. We were chit-chatting when my husband suddenly had to swerve around something, raced to the side of the road and then began quickly backing up.
There was a body lying across the middle lanes.
It's a long story, but we pulled over, had somebody else who stopped calling 911 while my friend and I tried to get the body out of the road before a car could come, but we didn't make it. A semi was barrelling toward us as we were crossing into the first lane and we had no choice but to stop. Somehow, despite all the commotion, lights shining on the body, etc..the truck driver didn't see him and ran right over him.
It was one of the most horrific, traumatic things I've ever been through.
I didn't see him well enough before he was hit for *me* to be sure he was gone before he was hit. My husband and our friend say it appeared that he'd been shot in the head and dumped..but because I didn't see that for myself, and I don't *know* that he was already gone, I've spent a lot of years living with the fact that I didn't get to him in time and
what if we'd gotten there..maybe he was just unconscious, maybe, maybe..
Whether he was already gone or not..it really pains me that his family got him back like that. He couldn't even be identified.
It was a long time until I could drive after dark again. Everything in the road or the side of the road would send me into a panic.