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Yesterday, I shared part one of Jason Annania’s account of the terrible accident in Arizona. He continues today.

Again, please check out Jason’s facebook page. You can friend him here.

Here is the most significant part of the entire story, the ENTIRE event. When the citizen rescuers picked me up and saved me, they laid me down less than 6 feet away from and face-to-face with the group leader. As an operating room nurse, being aware of people’s conditions tends to take precedent with any given situation for me. I get tunnel vision on that injured person in front of me, and there was no one on the ride with more significance for me. Until I speak with her husband and discuss things, I cannot tell a word of what I saw. All I can say is that I haven’t slept since the accident because of the tunnel vision view burned into my very psyche. It’s a picture I was face-to-face with for an hour until she was taken to the helicopter. I’ll be dealing with that moment in time for the rest of my life.

I heard the paramedics discussing where to take all of us. I told them I NEEDED to go to the facility I work at. They said, “Hey man, we got a lot of traumas.” I said, “Hey, I’m stable. Put me on a list and I’ll wait.” In the end, they were able to take me there straight-away, no fuss, no muss. The most uncomfortable part of the trip (other than the bumps jostling my leg) was that no one could get and IV started in me. Even now, my arms look like pincushions. I’m stuck all over every IV location over both arms. That’s gonna leave a bruise.

The rest of my story is all in the aftershocks that radiated across the entire country. I’ll speak more about it all in my next installment. Let me hit some high points.
I told the hospital that patient confidentiality does not apply to me in this case. I wanted anyone that was looking for me to be able to find me. The incident left everyone with the feelings felt by people that experience a car bomb or something. People don’t know how to relate. I knew that I could be a touchstone for people that needed to make some sort of contact, to have some sort of closure. It’s had that effect. People I’ll never get the chance to meet have called me from across the country just to ask what they could do to help and to tell me that I was in their thoughts and prayers. The solidarity and support expressed by the entire country is humbling to me. I’ll never have the words to be able to express to people how much I’m touched by their visits, phone calls, and e-mails. I was amazingly fortunate. I had relatively minor injuries and will be going home today. Yeah, I had my losses, but many, many people lost more. My heart is with them. For me to make some sort of laundry list of my concerns would be selfish beyond forgiveness. I’ll heal. That’s all that matters. No, it’s not. Everyone else effected by this tragedy need to be cared for so that they heal. They outpouring reflects very positively upon the art of motorcycling. I don’t think anyone would hold it against me if I never ride again. It’s too early to tell.

I know that even now, I leave people with a lot of unanswered questions. I’ve lost perspective with this monster e-mail. Feel free to send me questions for me to address. I’ll send out another piece in the next day or so, once I know what things I’ve left out. 3 days without sleep can hurt more than broken bones! Still not as much as a broken heart and countenance, though…
Remember, I love you all. I’ve made myself available for you to help you heal. You won’t be doing anything wrong by taking advantage of that.
Your friend forever – Jason

I think it’s important to keep Jason and all affected in our prayers.

Jason continues a few hours later:

Here is just a little bit I want to add to my story. As we all know, Dayle was the group leader I wrote about. After talking to P.T., he told me that she would be proud and honored at what I’ve written and that it honors her to name her as the special person that I had a higher-level connection with. P.T. says we were cut from the same cloth. After getting to hear his voice, I’m overwhelmed with things. Putting words down in writing might be easier than saying them during difficult times, but right now, even those words aren’t enough.

Dayle did not suffer. She might have hung on with life-support, but she did not suffer. I watched her very closely for an hour. When you read my account, I can’t put the emotion into words any better than I already have. I watched the rescue personnel work on Dayle, doing everything in their power to help her. With all the commotion going on all around us, I was still very able to hear the medics say that they just couldn’t get a response from her. I knew. I just knew. In the little glass box that was my universe that day, there was nothing that could have happened that would have been worse. Wait – I’m wrong. She could have suffered. She didn’t. That would have made the day worse.

I get confused as to what different sites I post to, so I’m giving the people with the power to do so the freedom to cross-link/repost/whatever all of this to wherever this will do the most good. Much love, Paul. – Jason

And finally, his most recent update:

Greetings friends. I came home from the hospital tonight. I was just in time to see what came of the media interviews I conducted earlier in the day. I’m glad I was able to get my post up on this site, because I was kinda disappointed as to how the interviews came out. One was better than the other, that one also had some gross factual inaccuracies. I just hope it was the right thing to do. If I made a mistake, or if I didn’t do the task justice, I am sincerely appologetic. I just want to make everyone happy. That’s what makes me happy.

As far as transitioning back to life at home, this is hard. I hurt more and more in extra places every day. I am severely handicapped right now. I’m barely able to ambulate around the appartment. I’m really impaired now. Does anyone have one of those ADA approved shower/bath benches that they could loan me for a few months? That is the one thing that is at the top of my gotta-have-it needs.

I’m sorry. I feel like a colossal failure in your eyes to have to ask for help. I thought I was going to easily make accommodations for my injuries. I guess I heal less effectively with each successive event. Add to that the less than steller interviews and I have to hang my head in shame. I am sorry I turned this into my own private blog. That was very selfish of me. The focus that I needed to take was to spotlight the gifts we have lost and to be an advocate for those unable to speak for themselves. Paul, I let you and the family and friends of everyone lost or hurt, down. I hope that someday, when the pain fades, that the community that I tried to defend and elevate, can forgive me.

If this is how I feel, I’ll never be able to come close to understanding your losses. What did I lose? Some material possesions, my ability to perform activities of daily living (but that’s only temporary), and probably my job. Mostly things that if you can’t walk away from, you don’t deserve anyway. Everyone else involved has suffered REAL loss. The art of motorcycling deserves a better voice than mine.

I’m sorry everyone. I’m just going to crawl into a hole. I don’t deserve your love and support. Even this is unforgivably selfish. I need to stop now, after having grossly over-stepped the line. If I’d stayed in the hospital, at least I’d be able to get good enough medication to stop the pain.

I have never met this man, and yet he has been in my prayers every day since I first made contact with him. So are all the others involved in this accident.

Arizona has become my “home away from home” only because of the people I now know there. It is a place Heather and I fully intend on spending more time visiting. I care deeply about the biker community of that area. And so, my heart goes out to those like Jason who carry a burden that most of us can not understand. I invite you to join me in praying.

By the way, within a few hours of Jason’s most recent email, a number of people responded and provided him the equipment he needed. Again, that’s how the biker community is with each other. I love it.

Some of you have heard about a tragic accident in Arizona where a truck crashed in a group of motorcyclists. A number were killed and the story is very tragic.

Jason Anania was one of the bikers hit by the truck. He has written a number of articles explaining the event from his perspective. I have his permission to repost them here. I debated posting these, because I don’t like to focus on the negative, however I felt it was a great reminder that life is precious and you really don’t know when and how something terrible can happen.

Jason’s only request was that I link to his facebook page. You can friend him here.

Here’s part one:

Hello everyone! I wanted to wait until I got home later this afternoon (it is officially Sunday – just barely), but I’m too wide awake and I have a heart too full of things to share. I want to make sure that this is all very respectful of everyone involved. I’m going to just start at the beginning without dragging things out too much. It’s my opportunity to present the whole story with the hindsight added to things. Gather round the campfire…

I initially didn’t know if I’d make it out to this ride. I had an appointment with my chiropractor first thing in the morning, but I wanted to be prepared, jut in case I could make it. I was able to get in and out of there quick (Dr. Jodi, I wish I was on your adjustment table right now), so I headed over to the kick-off point. I probably just missed everyone heading out. I wasn’t sure of the route, but I knew the destination. Factoring in any gass-up time, I figured I just might catch up with them. I got to the Roadrunner straight away, and was early. I started up a conversation with a husband and wife that arrived by motorcycles right before me. The wife was riding a Nightster and I shared pictures with her of “The Punisher” (my 883 Iron that is all blacked out with some comic book hero, Punisher-like skulls on it). When their food showed up, I excused myself. She is the manager at a local auto parts store in the north valley. I did plan on looking her store up, but now I just need to track her down. Period. Once I got outside, I was welcomed with the hearty greetings of the group.

Out of respect, I’m staying away from names, even if we might all know who is who. Dignity. I walked up and gave the group leader a hug and received a big one in return. The two “social butterflies” of the group made sure that introductions were carried out, even from halfway across the patio. I waved “hi” to a few new faces and to a few good friends. I took my seat at the end of the table, being sure to seat myself where I’d have a good view of all the eye-candy in the parking corral. While waiting for food, we did motorcycle enthusiast things – We checked out all the latest rides to grace the group, we talked about accessories, where we wanted to ride next, etc. I showed off the new saddle on my Bonneville and the other little bits I’d done to have it mirror my much beloved T100. It’s the one in my profile pictures. Man, I miss that bike. Just before the food got there, I was standing down at the other end of the table when the couple from inside came out. We shook hands and embraced like old friends. I promised to find her store. Now there is no way I can’t go. I just hope I can find it!

I remember the seating positions and what people had for lunch. The gravity of something so minor weighs so heavily.

We all headed out after lunch. I was the first one out of the corral. A couple bikes were parked in the other lot and were waiting for us. As things shook out, I found myself near the front of the group. Since this was my first time riding with them for the day, I was checking everyone out. I saw some riding styles from friends that were not quite like what I’m used to seeing. Not better, not worse… Just definitely different from the usual style. Those individual nuances are for me to cherish. I’m sorry at can’t share more. After 10-15 minutes on the road, I watched the positions change as 2 bikes headed off on the I-17 exit. As we drifted along, I remember the distinct though of, “Oh, a couple people are heading back already. Boy, it’s a nice day. I guess I’m making the right choice by staying on for the journey to the la…BAMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It was that quick. It was the longest moment of impact I’ve ever experienced, and trust me, I know of what I speak. That collision lasted forever. I kept waiting for it to end. My boot was ripped off, and before I hit the ground I knew my leg was broken. I remember being hit by a wall, very uniformly across my back. My Bonneville was spun out to the left of me and I hit the ground. I stayed conscious and lucid the entire time. I let out a guttural howl as I waited for my breath to return. Once I got it out, I heard someone holler to ask if I was ok. My mind processed one million things that next moment. The world just exploded. I had no idea what had happened. There was not a sound of breaking rubber to be heard. I was in the #3 position as the entire group sat at a stop light. The group leader was directly in front of me. A fraction of an instant before the world ended, I saw her rise from her seat and throw a quick glance over her shoulder. Game over. As I assessed myself, lying in the road, I could feel my right foot flopping around on the end of my leg. I knew that it was, at the very least, an open tibia fracture. I also knew that the humanity-ending event that I had just experienced was way bigger than I even knew. The little sliver that I saw was life-shattering and devastating, but I knew there was more going on behind me that I couldn’t turn over to see.

Once I was able to throw a glance over my shoulder, I saw a truck in flames. In the quick glance I had, I though it might have been a fuel truck. The flames were disturbingly close. Right then I heard a voice shout, “We gotta move him. This truck could blow!” Thus reinforcing my initial impression that it was a fuel truck. A moment later, multiple hands were cradled under me and lifting me. I told them about by leg and they made sure to stabilize it. The way that leg was all floppy, there was no way I could lay on my back. They laid me down on my side. I was with it enough to realize that I needed to take some actions. Since I was laying on my side, I was supporting my own helmet-covered head. I knew I didn’t hit my head, and it was pretty clear my cervical spine was not too acute. I was able to pull my phone out of my pocket and knew I had to make some calls. I tried using the hands-free speaker, but there was too much background noise for me to hear anything. I loosened my helmet and handed it off. A woman that had come out from one of the local businesses cradled my head until someone brought over folded blankets for me to rest my head on. I slipped off my headphones (I remember I was listening to an educational Podcast at the time) and the woman that had cradled my head took my headphones and placed them in my left chest pocket and zipped it closed. She was very conscientious. Next I called my boss. “What?!?!” Let me explain. I’m a nurse. I called my boss and told her that I was in a HUGE accident. She asked why I was calling her. I told her because I would be coming to her as a level 1 trauma and I wanted her to be ready. Then I called mom. Mom is a nurse, too, so I knew she could handle this. I was with it, so I wanted her to find out right from the horse’s mouth that I was ok.

I’ll post part two tomorrow.

I’ve heard all the concerns before. It’s dangerous. What if something happens to you. Think of your children. Or, it’s noisy, you get hit with bugs, what about the rain?

Yeah, I’ve heard them all a hundred times. And every time someone brings up another question, I think of the cliche statement, “If I have to explain, you wouldn’t understand.”

How do you explain a passion to someone? I’m not talking about those who ride for fairly practical reasons: cheaper on gas (most often, this isn’t actually true), faster commute, easier to park than a car, etc.

But I don’t ride because of some practical reason. In fact, many times, it is less practical for me to jump on my bike than it is to climb into a car. I carry a laptop with me every day. In the winter months, I simply toss my bag (along with my lunch) on the car seat beside me. During riding season, I carry my bag over my shoulder, making sure I have it set just right so that it doesn’t interfere with my arms. Or, I bungie it to the back of my bike, adding another five to ten minutes to my routine before I can head out from the house. No, it’s not very practical.

I certainly don’t save gas during the riding season. When I’m in my car, I find the quickest and shortest route to my office. The vehicle is just a box getting me from point A to point B. On my bike, I debate how long I can go before I have to get to the office. Often I’ll take the long way … the very long way.

Every year, I read about people killed or seriously injured on their motorcycle. I’ve watched many friends go down. I’ve officiated the funerals of a few who have paid the ultimate price. I’ve even experienced my own accident. It’s not fun. And yet, none of these experiences keeps me from my machine. It calls to me and I can’t wait for the next time I press the starter button and hear her roar.

So, why do I ride? Because I’m an addict. I’m addicted to the feeling I have every time I open the throttle and feel the power pull me down the highway. I’m addicted to the peace I experience as I get alone with my thoughts and process whatever may be going on in my life at that moment. I’m an addict to the connection I have with God when I enjoy the incredible openness of seeing his creation from a perspective you simply cannot get in a car.

I’m also addicted to the connections I’ve made with other bikers. While there are idiots in every lifestyle, I am constantly amazed at the number of incredible people I’ve had the honour of getting to know within the biker world. Some are local, some are hundreds if not thousands of miles away. All hold a special place in my heart. It was the love and passion of riding that connected us all.

I write these words and I find myself frustrated at my inability to explain it. Perhaps it really is true … it can’t be explained to those who have not experienced it. It is something you simply understand, or you don’t.

I think it’s time to ride.

For those who might be interested, I’m going to start uploading the videos from the talks I do at Bikers’ Church.

Here’s last week’s message

God blessed me today. Okay, every time I take a breath, God blesses me with another, but he blessed me in a specific way today.

Let me explain. A few weeks ago, a friend sent me a message telling me to keep Tuesday night free. He had bought me a ticket to go see Henry Rollins (as I posted about last time). I knew who Rollins was, but doubt I would have bought a ticket on my own. In fact, I was looking forward to simply hanging with this friend more than seeing Rollins.

That is until Tuesday afternoon, when my phone rang. It was the wife of another buddy. She was calling to offer me tickets to Tuesday night’s Ottawa Senators game. As many of you know, I am a crazy, fanatical Sens fan. And these weren’t just any tickets. They were amazing seats. Lower level, near center ice.

I groaned. I cried. I yelled. She laughed. And laughed a little more. I considered calling my buddy and telling him I couldn’t go see Rollins. I even suggested to my friend’s wife that this was an integrity test. Would I stick to my original commitment or skip out in order to see the Sens play. She suggested I offer to take my buddy to the game. The problem was, there were three of us going to see Rollins.

Finally I declined the tickets. I suggested someone else who would enjoy the game and she gave that person the tickets. I’m not exaggerating when I say that my chest was pounding after I turned down the tickets. It actually bummed me out.

Eventually I shook it off and headed out to see Rollins. As I shared here, I loved hearing Henry Rollins. I am now a huge fan and wouldn’t hesitate going to see him again. The night was amazing, the company was perfect, and it was an incredible night in every way. I was so glad I stayed the course and went with my friends.

So today, I’m heading into the office listening to the sports channel on the radio. I have an opinion about what they are talking about, and so when I get into my office, I fire off a quick email to the hosts. Go figure, they read the email on air and award me the “emailer of the day.” The prize: tickets to the next Sens home game (this Saturday)!

The seats are no where near as good as the ones I gave up, but that’s okay, cause I’m going to the game. Oh, and along with the tickets to the game was a $40 gift certificate to the Lone Star restaurant (which, btw, is one of my favourite places in the city!)

So, it’s funny how it goes when you show a little integrity.

Yeah, I’m a blessed man.

I’m debating writing this post. Some of you will appreciate what I’m about to say, while others may not be very happy with it. In fact, I wont be surprised if I lose a few followers after this post. But, if I’m going to keep this blog honest and real, then I need to be honest and real with this particular post.

I’ve just spent three hours with an incredibly interesting individual. To be honest, I didn’t expect to enjoy it anywhere near as much as I did. To me, Henry Rollins was a punk rocker and a small time actor. Nothing more. Most recently, he played the part of a white supremacist on my favourite television show, Sons of Anarchy.

The last thing I expected was the depth of intelligence that I heard tonight. His humour, passion, and range of experience made every story he told come to life. I was on the edge of my seat for almost the entire evening. He spoke for three hours. Not once did he take a drink of water (or anything else). He never paused for more than a few seconds. As a public speaker, I was amazed that he still had a voice at the end of the evening, and yet he did.

I didn’t agree with everything he said, but I loved how he presented his thoughts. I kept thinking back to my last post, on opinions, and Rollins was exactly the kind of guy I would love to sit with and just discuss whatever. I thought of what I wrote on my “About Page” only a few days ago. Rollins is one of those I thought I had him figured out, but I was wrong kind of guys.

I wish I could remember some of the best quotes of the night, but it’s late and I’m drawing a blank. I think I need a few days to decipher all he said. I know I’ll be reading up on more about Henry Rollins. I’d encourage you to check out his tour and take in an evening with him if you can. Now, some of you wont enjoy his opinions. Some will strongly disagree with some of his views (as I do). But all will be challenged to think deeper after hearing him speak.

Again, some of you will be offended that I am saying such positive things about someone who uses colourful language at times. His music is hardcore, and his views on some subjects go against the traditional biblical view. I don’t think you have to agree with everything he says in order to be challenged with his passion to discover and learn from the world.

One thing Rollins did say over and over was “never lose your curiosity.” He challenged people to always be learners. That’s something I can shout a loud “AMEN” to.

I love a good debate. I love it when people are willing to discuss an issue with the desire to learn and discover more. My mom taught me to love learning. Growing up, she and I would engage in some pretty intense debates. We’d pick an issue, choose sides, and debate. Even though we usually held the same views on a subject, one of us would play the role of the opposition, and usually would become very passionate in defending that side of the subject. Outsiders would hear us debate and think we were having an intense argument. But we loved it.

While I love discussing an issue, I can’t start arguing. People who simply want to push their opinion without an openness to learn drive me nuts. People like that usually have no clue about why they hold the opinion they do, they simply have always felt that way and watch to argue until you admit defeat.

You see, that’s the difference between a good debate and just arguing. In a debate, you want to make your point, but you also want to gain understanding in the view of others. You want to learn. In an argument, you simply want to win. There’s no desire to learn.

I’ve watched in amusement at how many Americans are responding to Health Care Reform. Now, I’ll be the first to admit that I know little about the issue. To be honest, it simply doesn’t matter to me. Health Care in Canada is … well … fine. It could be better, but it certainly could be a lot worse. The thought of someone having to choose between paying rent or seeing a doctor is simply foreign to me. There has never been a single time in my life where I have worried about money before seeing a doctor.

Yesterday, I spent some time reading up on American Health Care Reform. I flipped back and forth between a few channels on television to see what the pundits were saying. Then, I got frustrated and gave up. All I found were people wanting to argue. They would throw out these huge statements, like HCR would be the destruction of America.

At one point, I even whispered to myself, “Is there anyone willing to learn from the other side? Doesn’t anyone want to work together to simply make their country better – whether or not that includes HCR? But all I found were people defending their position, arguing to win against the opposition, and unwilling to actually dialogue. Even on Twitter, some of the statements were so extreme, that I couldn’t help but chuckle.

I use HCR as an example, but the same is true of any topic. We are launching a new series this week at Bikers’ Church called Believe. As I’ll be pointing out this week, it’s time for Christians to stop defending their position by making extreme statements or by trying to win an argument. It’s time to dialogue and be willing to learn from those who criticize our beliefs.

At least that’s my opinion. What’s yours?

As a pastor, I do a lot of counselling. One of the books I find myself often recommending to people is Boundaries by Henry Cloud and John Townsend. So, when I learned that John Townsend had released a new book, Where Is God?, I knew it would be on my reading list.

The book didn’t disappoint. Townsend asks the question that almost everyone has asked at some point: Where is God when I’m going through bad times? He is open about some of his own experiences in dealing with that question.

He responds by not giving the cliche answers, but rather by offering some deep insight in how God works in the midst of our trials. As you move through the pages of this book, faith is strengthened, and the answer to the question becomes obvious. God is there when we struggle.

If you’re going through a tough time, this is a great book. It will give you a little perspective as you call out for God’s help in the midst of your situation. I believe it will encourage you not to give up.

You can find the book on Amazon and Chapters.

(Disclosure: I was given a free copy of the book with the agreement that I would post a review about the book. I had the freedom to post any type of review, positive or negative.)

I realize that I am taking the Jefferson Airplane song horribly out of context by using it as the title of this post. That’s the beauty of blogging. You can do whatever you want! (Update: As some have pointed out, the song is from Buffalo Springfield. I believe it’s from both, but what do I know about music?)

As some of you know, I announced last Wednesday that I will stop writing the daily Oil Change once the current series concludes. That’s scheduled to happen in a couple of days. I’ve actually been done writing them for a week now. That means I didn’t have to spend some of Friday and all of yesterday writing Oil Changes. It was great! Mind you, I spoke at Greenbelt Baptist Church on Sunday, so that took up some of my day on Friday and a little of Saturday to finalize my message.

I woke up yesterday morning feeling like I wasn’t swamped before the week even started. Since I was still struggling with a cold I picked up on the weekend, I decided to lay low and do minor things. It was so nice out, that I ended up jumping on Heather’s bike and going for a spin. I ended up at a friend’s place and we chatted over coffee for about an hour. It was wonderful. The rest of my afternoon was spent reading a book that I need to review here on the blog (will do it later this week). At one point, as I sat on my front deck reading, my neighbour, Anne, came across the street and we chatted for a good twenty minutes. I hadn’t talked to her or her husband since last Fall. It was good to catch up.

As I sat, enjoying left over ribs from Sunday night, it hit me that no one is going to give me days like the one I had yesterday. If I don’t choose to make time to have time, I wont stop. I wont look around.

Perhaps you’re in the same boat. It seems like you’re always running. Always doing. Are you waiting for someone to stop the world so that you can find the time to enjoy it? If you are, you just might find yourself always waiting. You need to choose to find time to have time.

There’s a passage in the Bible where the author is describing chaos in the world. He describes a time where earthquakes are happening. Mountains are crumbling. Tsunamis are threatening. Nations are in crisis. And in the midst of it all, he writes these words:

Be still, and know that I am God!” (Psalm 46:10)

Notice that it is the listener who must choose to be still. Must choose to stop.

I’m not sure what’s going on in your world. But maybe there’s a sound that you are missing because there is too much external noise right now. If that’s the case, perhaps it’s time to stop and listen.

I’ve had a few people ask me how they can subscribe to this blog so that they receive updates via email. I thought it was straightforward, but perhaps I’ll need to tweak things a little.

It’s very easy. In the middle column, you’ll see the “Connect With Me” section. The first button is for those who want to subscribe using an RSS reader. The second button, the mail icon, is for those who want to get the posts by email. Don’t worry, you’ll only get one a day (max).

The other three buttons are links to my Facebook page, my twitter account, and the Bikers’ Church video account.

Since writing this post, I’ve changed the design of my blog. So, now, if you want to subscribe via email, simply click on the “Connect” tab at the top of the page and you’ll see all the links to connecting with me, including subscribing via email.

Hope that helps. I’ll begin posting more here later this week.