Lightning Strikes

Came home from a run in Valley Forge Park one evening not long ago and as I got out of the car a neighbor came up on me quickly. My daughter had fallen off a bike, she said, and was at a dentist with her mom getting her teeth checked out. Turns out Kate busted her jaw in four places, necessitating a steel wiring job that made her "look like a monster," as she put it after surgery.

I've been writing about workplace injuries for years, but working in the friendly confines of a publishing company has not been conducive to first-hand reporting. After this wipe-out on the home front a couple of themes from past writing unfortunately came to life.

How fast the routine can turn into a night to remember, for example. A kid goes for a ride around the block with friends before dinner like a hundred nights before. Then she comes running home crying, bleeding, holding her head. Lightning strikes, and it's never expected.

All the doctors and nurses said it could've been worse if she hadn't been wearing a helmet. Too bad it wasn't a football helmet with face cage and chin strap — might have saved the jaw. Still, the protective equipment worked like an insurance policy you never expect to cash in on.

After Kate came home from the hospital and phone calls from family, friends, and neighbors tailed off, the finger-pointing began. Who's fault was this accident? After the worry subsides the anger kicks in. Was it the neighbor who was timing the kids to see how fast they'd go around the block? Kate and her friends were vague about what happened, not wanting to "get in trouble."

Accidents will happen, said some consoling friends. President Clinton said the same thing after tumbling down a few steps and ripping up his knee. But there are explanations, usually more than one.

The corner Kate skidded out on had loose gravel and could use some repairs — poor community housekeeping you might say.

She was on a friend's bike she hadn't ridden before, in a sense operating unfamiliar equipment.

The kids were racing — a fine form of peer pressure.

The worse the accident, the stronger the anger, guilt and other feelings. I have an inkling of how that works now. And also fresh respect for how fragile we are.