On TV the other week, I watched NASA scientists crash a spacecraft into the asteroid Dimorphos to prove they could change its flight path and divert it from a potential Earth-impacting orbit. But, despite NASA’s success and the Hollywood movies taking on this concept, my real question is not could we, but should we really do it?
Almost forty yeas ago, I was stationed at Lackland AFB in the SW part of San Antonio, but I worked at Camp Bullis Military Reservation some 45 minutes north of the city. I carpooled with Staff Sergeant Mason (not his real name as he may want to tell his own version of this story, or may not want it told at all), and to pass the time driving we started a rolling philosophical discussion as follows: Regardless of why the world would come to an end, if you had the power to prevent its destruction, would you do so?
Our question went back and forth for months, SSgt Mason presenting his YES with me giving counterarguments, and then weeks and miles later we would switch sides.
Then there was the night of the traffic accident.
Snow in San Antonio in December is not completely unusual, but more common are slushy and wet roads. Late one evening coming from Camp Bullis we had just turned from I-10 onto Loop 410 heading south. Traffic was barely 30MPH, but one driver sped by us on the left and then turned right to cross three lanes of traffic in a last-minute effort to hit one of the off ramps. As we and the other drivers slid to a stop, the sedan skidded off the exit lane and into the steep-banked drainage ditch, rolling onto the passenger side and resting on a culvert. Mason and I were the first on the scene; there was RED liquid and glass everywhere, and the driver was underneath the car with her head sticking out from the passenger side window. The culvert was keeping the car from crushing her further into the slush and the mud.
The other drivers were there in minutes, and we put our weight into keeping the car from tipping the rest of the way over. Mason checked on the driver who was amazingly barely injured; we figured the RED liquid we saw was automatic transmission fluid, but there was also gas starting to leak out; no signs of fire though, and I was able to reach through where the front windscreen used to be and shut off the ignition.
Miracle number two was an ambulance crew responding to an earlier call had been waved off and was returning to station; they were two blocks away. Rescue crews were also only five minutes out, and on their arrival were able to dig the driver loose, then all of us holding the car got away from it and waited for the wrecker. SSgt Mason and I gave our statements to the police, and in about 40 minutes we were back on the interstate heading home stinking of gas, wet clothes, and sweat.
As the adrenaline started to wear off, I began to get angry at the recklessness of that driver; furthermore, her disregard for the safety of the rest of us and the disruption to the lives of those who came to her rescue made me even angrier as we drove home. If I had to make the “end of the world” decision that night, it would have meant forty days and nights of rain, and I gave Mason my final answer on our save-the-Earth question, which we never discussed again. I said: “It all depends on the day!”
My first name is Steven (Stephan) and my second is Thomas. Legend has it my mother named me after two saints, the first being who was “full of faith in the Holy Spirit,” but was later stoned to death for his beliefs, and then Thomas the apostle who doubted his faith until he put his finger into the nail holes in the Christ’s palms. So, thanks to mom I have viewpoints that can either conflict with or balance life events, like what happened that night in San Antonio. For sure, it was the Thomas in me that gave my answer to SSgt Mason.
Now I’m approaching seven decades. There are still THOMAS-level events taking place: the war in Ukraine and the continued threats of global war with North Korea, China, Iran, Russia, and terrorists; environmental disarray; divisive politics and angry rhetoric; mass shootings; and yes, reckless drivers and road rage. On some days I still have doubts this world is worth saving.
Then, I see a YouTube article by “Steve Hartman, On the Road.” He shows we don’t have to be a Mother Teresa or Dalai Lama to make a positive difference in someone’s world. I get amazed when I think about the countless number of mostly nameless volunteers and professionals who provide aid to the ill and the less-abled, advocate for the homeless, work to teach and protect children, support our military/veterans and first responders, take care of abandoned animals, and actively help to clean up the environment. There are also the many organizations of faith who support those in need within and without their assemblies. And then there are just good people who only know how to do what’s right, like the Secret Santas of the world and Steve Hartman’s subjects.
I saw a random survey on the news that said only 38% of its respondents were optimistic our country could come together and work out its differences, the rest being pessimistic about it happening--the Stephen and the Thomas in action. But today I am at peace, enjoying this late fall day in Colorado Springs sitting in a sun-filled yard with maple leaves falling all around me like so many snowflakes. My answer to SSgt Mason has not changed in over forty years, and today I would have saved the world.
It’s probably good I REALLY don’t have the power to make that call, because tomorrow I may be on the highway again with some other reckless driver that makes the Thomas in me come out and throw that final yellow penalty flag. It all just depends on the day.
Best regards to all, and let’s be safe out there.
