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Death
Can Show us the Way
Tony
Miller
Issue 209
28th August, 2006
I came home from Cairns to
a message left by my 11 year
old son on the answering machine.
'Dad, remember Ken Wilson
the guy you told me about
who died in that car accident
on the highway. Well it's
the anniversary of the accident
on Thursday.
You told me to remind you,
say a prayer for him dad,
I will, love ya dad..........'
I didn't expect the message
and have to admit I was a
little surprised that he remembered.
 It
was a quite a few years ago
that I was driving down to
the Central Coast from Coffs
Harbour to see Ken Ticehurst
MP for Dobell.
I had an appointment with
him to explain what our group
was about and to discuss the
issue of 5 males suiciding
every day in this country.
I
I wanted to enlist his help
in combating the tragedy on
the Central Coast. I hadn't
met Ken before so didn't know
quite what to expect.
On my way there I was travelling
down the highway thinking
of the impending meeting when
out of nowhere from my left
came a car that looked as
though it was doing 150kms
an hour and ploughed straight
into the side of a car travelling
directly in front of me. The
impact pushed both cars into
a rollover and straight down
a slight embankment in the
middle of the highway.
Pieces of metal and plastic
went flying everywhere. I
was a few seconds behind the
car that was hit. I pulled
over and rushed down to the
car that was hit grabbing
my mobile. I got to the first
car and the two occupants
a male and female were climbing
out already.
Bloody and bruised at least
they were on their feet I
thought. 'What the hell, happened?'
they mumbled walking in circles
in a daze. 'Are you OK, are
you OK?' I frantically asked.
'Yes, Yes, I think so' the
male said. 'Did you see that?'
he said. 'Yes I s! aw everything,
you are lucky to be alive.'
I quickly raced over to the
car that came tearing out
from the side street. There
was no movement from the two
occupants. The car was a mess,
there was smoke billowing
from the engine.
The driver, a big man I guess
in his 60's was unconscious,
so was the female occupant
who I surmised was probably
his wife sitting next to him.
I couldn't get the door open
it was so badly smashed in.
I reached into the driver's
window and fumbled looking
for the ignition switch, which
was pushed down near the floor.
I found it and turned the
engine off, I was scared it
would catch fire and I wouldn't
be able to get them out.
I got on my mobile and called
000. I stayed next to the
car just patting the driver
on the shoulder telling him
to, 'Hang in there mate, help
is on the way'. What seemed
like forever, but was probably
not, the police arrived.
Ambulance and rescue are on
the way he told me. Just keep
doing what your doing mate,
you're doing a good job.
'Should we try and get them
out?' I asked. 'No mate, the
ambos and rescue will look
after that', he said So nervously
I stayed there, just reassuring
this guy and the lady sitting
unconscious next to him that
they would be ok.
The policeman was walking
back and forth making sure
the other couple were OK and
then coming back to me, 'You're
doing a good job mate, just
stay with them if you can',
he said. I didn't know what
to do other than talk to them
and utter a few faint prayers
to the good Lord asking that
He look after them. I felt
pretty useless. I kept telling
them they would be OK.
I was drawn to keep squeezing
the old guy's arm, reassuring
him. He seemed to be in a
worse condition than the woman.
I doubted whether they could
hear me but something just
kept drawing me to repeat
myself.
Finally the rescue crowd arrived
and I was relieved to be ushered
back to my car while they
took over. The policeman came
over and spoke to me while
I was rolling a smoke leaning
against my car watching the
rescue crowd do their work.
'Are you OK?' he asked. 'Yeah
sure', I said, not really
believing myself. As he was
getting the details of what
had unfolded I saw them throw
a blanket over the driver's
body.
'Sh*t, he was breathing a
minute ago', I exclaimed to
the cop. 'I thought he would
make it', I said sadly.
'See it all the time, mate,
tragic isn't it?' he replied.
'Are you OK', he asked again.
'Yeah, I'm OK, I said.
After taking my details and
description of what happened,
I left the cop a 'dids' business
card and continued on my journey.
I got thinking about the poor
old guy and I guessed that
he was a dad. I started to
wonder how his kids were going
to take the news. It wasn't
long before I had tears rolling
down my face and pulled over.
I immediately rang my dad,
told him what had happened
and more importantly told
him I loved him. With the
thought of 'it could of been
my dad', I continued on my
journey.
A few weeks later I received
a call from the guy's son
who tearfully tried to thank
me for offering assistance
to his mum and dad. 'Mum is
still in hospital but she
will be OK. Dad apparently
had a heart attack at the
wheel before flying out onto
the highway. He was a good
man, loved by many, thank
you', he said between the
tears.
 The
accident happened where the
Bullocky Way meets the highway
near Taree. I travel the highway
often and ever since the accident
I always stop there to have
a smoke and have a talk to
Ken.
They put up a white cross
on the corner opposite where
the accident happened. It
has a plaque with his name
on it. Often I roll a smoke
for him. I don't know if he
was a smoker but I leave one
stuck in a cable tie that
is attached to the cross,
just in case.
It was on one of these journeys
that I had my little boy with
me and when he enquired what
I was doing I related the
above story to him. I was
unaware that he noted the
date on the cross and hence
the phone message . . . !
I guess Ken's death touched
him too . . . I'm proud of
my little boy, he has found
heart . . .
I often ask the good Lord
that if there is a space designated
for me up there, 'Well do
ya reckon you could fit Ken
into mine?'
I seem to ask the Lord that
a lot especially with the
tragic cases I see day in
day out.
I figure the amount of time
I have asked him to squeeze
someone in, that by the time
I get there, and if I do,
I will be sleeping outside.
Well let's just hope he has
got a big place................
Death can show us the way,
for when we know and understand
completely
that our time on this earth
is limited,
and that we have no way of
knowing when it will be over,
then we must live each day
as if it were the only one
we had
Elisabeth Kubler-Ross 1926
Footnote: I eventually
got to my appointment late
that same day with Ken Ticehurst
MP who took my concerns to
Allan Cadman MP and who both
raised the issue in Parliament.
Ken tells me it was that meeting
that got the ball rolling
which eventually led to 'Every
picture Tells A Story' the
report on the inquiry into
child custody arrangements
in the event of family
Dads in Distress
dids@nor.com.au
www.dadsindistress.asn.au
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