A page from one of many journals . . . (and before I stopped watching television)

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

It’s about 2pm and I’m on the platform waiting for the train.  I’ve started out late because I found myself glued to the television watching “The Peoples Court” with Judge Milan.  

One of the cases reminded me of my accident in 2006.  I rode my bike early one morning (around 7 am) to my sister’s home—she could go off to work and I would then get my nephew ready for school.  I rode on the sidewalk until I reached a corner near Austin Avenue.  I crossed and a jeep surprised me by turning left quickly as I came into the intersection.  Attempting to maneuver out of his way by turning my bike north, the driver, instead of immediately breaking, drove into me.  I flew off my bike and landed in the middle of the street.  I remembered thinking and repeating as I tried to swerve away from the car, “he's not going to stop, he's not going to stop."   It was a slow motion picture when he hit my rear wheel and I flew several feet into the air but that’s where the film ends. 

It’s interesting how that moment of impact your brain protects you from what comes next.  I don’t remember the landing just the immediate awareness once on the ground—the intense pounding of my heart—my chest on the verge of bursting.  I bent my legs and turned my head toward the jeep.  My right shoulder was in pain.  But, I thought I was okay.  The man who drove the jeep was already out and now looking down at me asking if I was okay, that I looked okay and why don’t I get up.  He even suggested dragging me to the sidewalk so that he could drive on.  I asked him if he would call for an ambulance.  He told me he didn’t have a phone. 

A car passed around us, pulled down the window and asked in Spanish if I was okay.  The man who hit me answered quickly that I was, everything was okay.  The car drove on.  A second car passed and parked, got out and asked me if I was okay.  I told him that I wasn’t and if he had a phone to call for an ambulance.  He didn’t have one but asked the man who hit me if he had one.  The man who hit me pulled out his cell and handed it over to him.  Really? Was I simply collateral damage to this guy who hit me?  I was like a fly hitting his windshield and he wanted the mess removed.

The man who had stopped was about to call for an ambulance but the man in the jeep seemed to talk him out of it and he hesitated because he felt compassion for the man in the jeep who had told him that he was driving without a license and that he would get in trouble.  He (the man that stopped) handed me the phone to call my sister, which I quickly did and told her to call the police because the guy that hit me wants to leave the scene.

I felt my past come up lying there—the latin girl, whose father was less than a good man, who made sure that I knew that the most important thing in life was his life, who was the center, and who could take advantage of any of his daughters because we were meaningless in his world.  To me, this man was a reincarnate--worse still—he was latin with the physique of my dead father.

Lucky for me a Cicero town official came by soon after calling my sister, got out of the car and came directly up to me to ask what happened and if I was okay.  I explained that the man in the jeep hit me and that he is refusing to call for an ambulance.  He was extremely compassionate, and told me not to worry because he wasn’t going to leave me until the ambulance arrived.  He got on his walkie/talkie and called it in as an emergency.  Someone not on the street had already called it in and within seconds, the local ambulance from the nearest fire station arrived, the Cicero police soon thereafter.

The man in the jeep was charged and I eventually went to court to testify against him.  Three continuances later and a judge who knew the defendant’s attorney personally, got him off with a fine.  I filed my own suit against him. 

Waiting for a trial date, I received a letter from the producers of the Judge Judy show.  The letter asked if I would like to fly to California and have my case heard by Judge Judy.  After researching, my husband and I found that even if I were in the “right” that it would be Judy’s decision and I would not be able to dispute it.  So, if I lost, I would not get my costs but the defendant would get $1500 for winning (my worst case scenario).  Strange but that’s television.  I decided to go through the “real” legal system.  Before my case came up, the defendant contacted my husband and agreed to pay my costs.

The cases today on “The Peoples Court” weren’t all that interesting but it gave me a chance to have lunch at home before I left.  I’m off today and plan to go down to the loop to buy some gym shoes, t-shirts, blouse and then head on home.

I saw this mannequin one day while I was photographing the street, and the way she was positioned—arm extended as if giving direction.  I waited for the human element to tell a story.