Accidents Part 2

October 21, 2026

Collection Carnegie Museum of Art 

Whenever I drive past a particular exit on Interstate 65 in Alabama, my heart sinks and then I remember a beautiful story….  Whenever I pass by a place where I know someone died, my heart sinks. This reflection is about that place on I-65.

Accidents are a part of life. Yet many of us find it hard to live with the knowledge that they can happen without warning. Think about your own life. What accidents do you recall? Perhaps there was a broken bone or a laceration. Perhaps an accident changed your life—or changed the way you see it. Someone else’s accident may have changed your life, too. That was the case for me in one special relationship.

I started seventh grade at a new junior high school. We were baby boomers, and the school was crowded, especially at lunch. The cafeteria could barely hold us all. We squeezed around tables with students we didn’t even know.

One day, the only seat I could find was beside a sad-looking girl my age who had a broken arm. A complicated contraption held her cast out to the side, while metal cuffs and rubber bands pulled her thumb backward. Other students seemed to have avoided sitting next to her. But I was desperate for a seat, so I took it.

There we were, two twelve-year-olds crowded together. After an awkward silence, we began a conversation I have never forgotten.

“Hi, I’m Joe.” 

She gave a faint smile. 

“What’s your name?”

“Julie.”

“Looks like you broke your arm. How did you do it?”

“It was a car accident.” Then Julie looks at her cast. 

“I’m sorry. How long do you have to wear that thing?”

“The doctor says six months to a year.”

“Wow, when did this happen?”

“This summer.”

“Here in town?”

“No, it was at the Georgiana exit of I-65 on the way to Montgomery.”

“Gosh. Was anyone else hurt?”

“Yes. My mother.”

“How is she doing?”

Julie looked down and said, “She died.”

With those two words, our conversation became about far more than a broken arm. My heart sank. The unthinkable had happened to this young girl. At that age, losing my mother would likely have brought me to my knees. Yet Julie, though understandably sad, went to class and found her way through each day. How was she doing this? How was she managing? 

We were youngsters, but Julie’s willingness to tell me the truth about the accident began a friendship that lasted through junior high and high school. After that first day, many more cafeteria lunches followed. Her accident changed her life profoundly. Over the years, I had the privilege of seeing her emerge from devastation into a life of health and accomplishment.

Years later, we met again at a class reunion. Julie had a family of her own and was an interior designer. She glowed with beauty and love.

When we are on our way to the beach and back, we pass by the Georgiana exit number 114. And my heart always sinks, but then I remember Julie’s story. At an age and time when I could not have even begun to accept such a death, Julie showed me the courage it takes to meet disaster and keep living. For this and for Julie’s life, I am forever grateful. 

Spiritual Practice and Inquiry

How has someone else's accident affected your life? What spiritual wisdom did it teach you? 

Prayer

Dear God, 

For Julie I am so thankful; for her life, even when we were twelve years old, gave me your wisdom that I would draw on for the rest of my life.

Amen