Two buddies and I were flying in a Cessna 172 after work one cold October evening in 1985. We often went for joy rides after a long day of wrenching on USAF B-52's and KC-135's. Two of us had been raised up around aircraft and our other buddy had actually never flown before. We had been out hot dogging a little bit out near the Mississippi river, doing some stalls and spin recovery out in the sticks. Just as it was getting dark out, we noticed a huge fire on the bank of the river and thought we'd check it out since it was big enough to be a house fire. We dropped down to tree top level headed out over the river; as we over flew the fire we saw it was just a big dump that had been set on fire. We leveled out over the river at around 50 or 60 feet, headed south along the channel. None of us saw the electrical wire until it was too late to avoid it; we hit it with the leading edge of the left wing with enough energy to snap the wire at the west side of the river. Initially when we hit, it slowed us down like we had hit a giant rubber band; then, when it snapped, we regained our momentum. We still had a ton of airspeed so banked it over hard to the right, heading for a big soybean field. What we didn't know, was where the cable snapped, it had frayed into a big bird cage and as it pulled through the left wing spar it snared us. We did not have enough energy to snap the wire a second time, so the wire was pulling us back to the pole it was still attached to. The pole happened to be on a heavily wooded, uninhabited island in the middle of the river. We had too much airspeed to stall it in and only a few hundred yards of cable to work with; we knew were going in and it was not going to a controlled event. I watched as the trees came up towards us at what seemed like slow motion; at the last minute, I ducked down and covered my head with my hands. There were the most God awful noises I've ever heard; tree limbs snapping, metal ripping, and even the sound of the engine departing the aircraft. After about 75 yards of tree tops we finally hit a huge solid tree about 70 or so feet up from the ground. This tremendous impact stopped all forward motion, but then I experienced the dream that you’re falling, except we really were. The impact with the ground was even worse than the one with the big tree; I swear the seat harness about ripped me apart, I actually thought I had soiled my self from the impact. The next thing I remember is the sound of crickets and night creatures starting to stir. I also realized that I could hear fluid dripping on something hot; it would drip then sizzle. I laid there pinned in the plane, for an amount of time I'm not sure of, dazed and trying to make sense of my surroundings, when all the sudden I heard the whoosh of the fuel igniting on the aircraft. This was enough to bring me out of my daze and realize I had to get out then or I would die there. I could not find my seat belt release and was starting to really freak out, when suddenly I fell out of the aircraft onto the ground. I stood up to move farther away from the fire and immediately fell to the ground again. I had a really bad hit to the head during the crash and everything was spinning wildly, keeping me from being able to stand up. I then crawled away from the fire and realized that I had not seen either one of my buddies; so I called out to them and got no answer. I thought they may still be pinned in the aircraft and so picked up a small tree branch and thought for a minute I would put out the fire to save them. My better judgment kicked in, as I remembered how much fuel was remaining in the tanks when we went in, so I crawled away from the blaze worried it would blow up. I had not seen any signs of my buddies in the plane and thought they must have been thrown out during the crash. I knew I was way out in the back woods and that the nearest homes would be to the west from where we went down, so west I crawled towards the red glow of the setting sun. I came out of the woods in a few minutes and found myself on the bank of the river; this confused me because I appeared to be on the east side of the river. Then it hit me, we had gone down on a deserted island. I had no idea what to do next so I sit myself down on the bank of the river to try to get my senses back. That’s when I noticed the blood trail I’d been leaving from all my injuries; I was in shock and felt absolutely no pain, so I was surprised when I could see the bone in my left arm where the bicep had been ripped in half. I began to wonder if I would make it through the night or if I’d bleed out in the island. About that time I heard a boat motor up the river from me; it was almost completely dark now, but I knew I had to stop that boat. It turned out to be a 14 year old kid that had seen the plane go down and got his boat into the river to check it out. The kid saw me and as he nosed the boat into the bank he took one look at me and started crying. Needless to say, this kind of freaked me out too, as it made me wonder if I was missing an ear or part of my face. The kid helped me into his boat as I told him my two buddies were missing and needed help. The kid didn’t want to leave me to go into the woods to search and insisted on taking me to get help. He took me up river to their small home on the river bank. They were very poor folks with what looked to be 10 kids running around, and the boys father was crippled and on crutches. They got me into their house and wanted me to lie on their couch; I refused when I saw the blood trail I was leaving in the house as I didn’t want to ruin their couch. I insisted they sit me up in a kitchen chair on the front lawn as they put make shift bandages on the worst of my cuts, to slow the bleeding. We were so far out in the sticks they had no telephone and had to call for help on a CB radio. It took the authorities about 45 minutes to get there; by that time I was really starting to feel the effects of all the injuries and blood loss. They took me to the hospital in an ambulance while they went out on the island to search for my buddies. Later that night, I was informed that both my friends had died on impact. After a couple of days in intensive care for my injuries and about a week total in the hospital, I started my long journey of healing, both physical and mental. I remember sitting on the couch when I got home and crying like a baby as I held my 2 month old daughter. I had a pretty rough time of it wondering why I, the hell on wheels, drinking, bar brawling hell raising one of the bunch was spared, while both of my buddies were not. After a rough spell, I decided I was going to change my ways, make something of myself and be the best father and husband I possibly could. The incident changed my life, how I thought, and most of all how I treated others. From that day on, I never leave the house or go to sleep with out telling the ones I love how much I love them. I thank God for the second chance and hope I will be able to live up to his expectations.
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