Texas tale reveals unsettling details

It’s well known that native residents of Texas like to brag about how “everything’s bigger” in their part of the country. The boast is justified most of the time–just as an example, a drive from Minnesota’s southern border to Canada is about 400 miles. In Texas, the distance from north to south is between 800 and 1,000 miles; from east to west, it’s about 775 miles.

 

Apparently those huge distances also lead to a hunger for speed.

 

I believe I’ve mentioned in previous columns that my husband is good friends with a fellow named James who has lived in Texas for 20 or more years. I’ve commented on how he teases us all winter long about how cold it is in Minnesota, then we tease him all summer about how hot it is in Texas.

 

The story I feel compelled to share regards James’ significant other, Paulette, a lifelong Texas resident. I was recently informed, to my complete surprise, a typical country speed limit in Texas is 75 miles per hour–This is on two-lane roads comparable to what we have in Minnesota–about 25 feet wide.

 

All right, the stage is set.

 

About a week ago, Paulette was driving her small-ish SUV on a country road after dark. Suddenly she realized there was a horse standing in the road facing away from her. A black one, not visible until the last moment. She didn’t even have time to hit the brakes before the collision occurred.

 

The horse’s posterior rode up the hood of the vehicle, crashed into the windshield, and crushed in the roof right above the driver seat. A description that was shared with us stated that, if someone were sitting in the damaged vehicle’s driver seat, there would be only about an inch between his or her nose and the crushed-in metal.

 

After the horse slid off Paulette’s hood and roof, it landed in the roadway and was struck by a second vehicle.

 

Paulette’s brake lights had offered that driver a warning; he had slowed down from full cruising speed. His vehicle was damaged, but not “totaled” in the complete way Paulette’s was.

 

Imagining the forces involved, perhaps you will agree with my household’s assessment that it was essentially miraculous that Paulette survived. She did end up with some frighteningly bloody cuts on her forehead which required hours of medical stitching to repair.

 

And one other thing. Since the horse was hit from behind, its bowels were emptied on and inside the car. James’ laconic assessment was “If it can’t be hosed off, it’s probably not worth keeping.”

 

Especially after hearing about this accident, I find myself thinking “bigger isn’t always better.”