Man as Deer
Some moments and people we never forget
I remember the airbag engaging immediately.
It pushed so hard against me I understood at that moment why auto manufacturers warned that putting small children upfront in a vehicle was dangerous.
I was pinned against the seat of the rental car I was driving. The vehicle drifted towards the shoulder of Interstate 80 on the Ohio Turnpike and I guided it off the road from behind the airbag.
I had hit a deer.
One minute I was listening to the radio, next minute, I saw a deer jump over the dividing wall of the highway and run in front of the SUV I was driving. I knew the chances of missing the deer were tiny. Tiny like less than nothing.
If I slammed on the brakes, the truck would flip over. If I swerved, the truck might flip over. My only chance was to slow down and try to drift to the right and perhaps the deer would gallop out of my path. But it didn’t work.
It is like we locked eyes. That cliche — deer in headlights — was not a cliche at all. I literally could feel the deer’s eye moving closer and closer to the front of my vehicle even as I tried to drift away from its path. It was no use. It was like the car was magnetic and the deer was made of steel. The deer was thinking it was faster than the vehicle…
