The Night Came Calling
By Astrid Bidanec

The feeling of freedom was exhilarating while I felt the wind blow through my hair. Even though I was only the passenger, I could not help but fuse with the driver and his machine. It was like the three of us became one, leaning in the direction of any curve in the road.

This ride on his Honda motorcycle was the last one I took with my friend, Mike, before the fateful day which changed life as he knew it forever.

Thinking back to the carefree moments on the road with him, I feel extremely lucky to have escaped the fate which was in store for him not long after.

Mike had always been a very passionate and risk-taking motorcycle rider, especially when he was by himself he was rather thrill-seeking. I often watched him perform crazy motorcycle stunts while going at least 60 miles per hour. He was completely fearless. Back then we were all young and worry free. No one ever expected anything bad to happen to us. In spite of motorcycle accidents happening all around us we felt invincible. Until darkness fell.

As fate would have it, Mike was not even doing anything wrong on this day. On the way home from a night out with friends he drove through an intersection on the green light. Since it was dark, it must have been hard to see him. A truck driver coming from the right suddenly ran him over at full speed. His motorcycle went flying through the air while his body was tossed onto the shoulder of the road. It was one the worst things I have ever witnessed. His bike was a pile of rubble after that. His leather motorcycle jacket had been ripped to pieces.

What was much worse though, was Mike's unnatural alignment of his limbs while he lay on the grass by the side of the road. We did not even know if he was still alive. The shock of this incredible and terrible event paralyzed us for what seemed to be an endless moment. We were frozen in time. Then one of us had the awareness to call 911. Everything seemed so surreal and the memories of that night still appear to be something like a bad dream to me today.

While Mike was fighting for his life that night, I was praying and wondering why this had happened to him. The most perplexing part was to realize he had made no mistake whatsoever this time. No motorcycle stunt, no speeding, nothing on his part had caused this accident but being at the wrong place at the wrong time. The cliché of this phrase has been overused. That night however, I understood it perfectly for the very first time in my life.

The darkness had not only fallen on Mike, but all of us that night. We became more careful and responsible. It is fair to say that all of our lives changed drastically that night. Most of all, Mike's, of course. He recovered after several months in the intensive care unit. His stomach was covered in scars that he proudly showed to anyone who was willing to look. He was a survivor. While death held him in its grip he was fighting back with all the passion he previously employed when riding his motorcycle. He reminded me of the ’Ghost Rider,’ who avenges all wrong and blazes through the night on his burning bike. Not so much for the avenging part, but rather for the overcoming. He had cheated death so many times before, and even now he was yet again pulling his last stunt, so to speak. The doctors told us he was not supposed to survive. It was yet another one of Mike’s miracles.

In the wake of this unfortunate event Mike came to realize how very precious life is.

His motorcycle accident became a turning point for him. He never felt invincible again. The former innocence and ignorance were gone. Even though we cannot control what happens to us, we do control how we react to it. He took something tragic and turned it into something good. He became a teacher for motorcycle safety and awareness. Nature always has a way of balancing itself out.