So, I am 99% OK, but I got hit by a car yesterday. It was as close a call as I have ever had, and I am grateful that I wasn’t badly hurt. As the car was coming toward me, I really thought I was in trouble.
I was coming out of Sweet Life, having picked up some food for a meeting I was having at my house. I was crossing Dot Ave., when a car pulled out of the Pat’s Pizza Parking lot, trying to make the left on to Dot Ave. He never even looked to his right, according to a witness, and I never saw him coming. As I stood there in the middle of Dot. Ave., paralyzed, arms full of a platter of food, watching the red Volvo come right at me, and bracing for the impact to my legs, what flashed through my mind? Not “Oh my God, who will take care of Charlie if I’m hurt?” or “Oh my God, how will I pay my bills if I can’t work?” Nope. It was “Oh my god, the campaign!”
I don’t really know what happened. I know there was a mass casualty of sandwiches, but I managed to save the coconut caramel shortbreads, which, you know if you have tasted them, is very important. I didn’t go down. I took the hit with my legs, and have a little bruising, but they never buckled. Practical application of Bikram Yoga. All that standing on one leg has made them both rock solid. I was pretty shook up, and a little confused, and couldn’t really move from the street. As people came out to help me, the driver, who was a scared young man clearly driving his Dad’s car, got out to say he was sorry. I couldn’t really say anything, but someone there said “You need to pull over and write your name and license number.” While we waited for that to happen, several people told me they thought I needed an ambulance, but it was 4:10 and I had people coming to the house for a 4:30 campaign meeting, so I didn’t have time for an ambulance. Kristen from Sweet Life came out and said they were making more sandwiches, and would bring them to the house, which was very nice of her. Pat from Pat’s Pizza had also come out and was being very helpful, staying with me until he thought I was OK to drive.
We had the meeting – Marty, me and a few others, and I didn’t tell anyone what had happened. After it was over, I called Marty and said, “I got hit by a car.” He said, “Yeah, I know. That meeting was brutal.” And I said, “No, Marty, not figuratively. Literally. I was literally hit by a car, right before the meeting.” I told him the story, and he told me I cannot, under any circumstances, get hit by a car before the election. If you see me being helped across the street by any young men who look like they might be in construction, that’s just my new security detail.
I thought about not posting this, because as I was thinking about it, I of course thought of Bill McDermott, my friend, without whose help I might not have been able to purchase Ashmonticello. Bill was killed after being hit by a car in February. He was a close advisor to Congressman Lynch, who of course was running for the U.S. Senate at the time. But then I thought about Bill and his daughter, my friend Deirdre, and realized that they, of all (Irish) people, would have seen the gallows humor in the idea that multiple Boston political operatives were being hit by cars.
Anyway, this morning I went back to Bikram, and was pretty sore. Though I wasn’t hurt when I was hit, I must have tensed up waiting for the impact. But after completing that 90-minute class, walking four miles in the baking sun in the Dorchester Day Parade, and then spending a couple of hours at the Ashmont Grill with a pal, picking off votes, one-by-one for Marty, I’m ready to declare that I was unhurt in the incident.