You’ve probably experienced this…
You’re driving at 5:00 on a Friday, feeling fortunate that you’re making good time.
You think that the traffic gods must be smiling on you, then the flow of cars and buses and trucks grind to a halt.
You assume that there’s been an accident and that a gaper’s block has formed. You feel conflicted; resentful of being stuck in traffic, that you’ll probably be late arriving to your destination. You also feel lucky that it wasn’t you behind the wheel of what you imagine to be crinkled metal.
When you see the flashing blue lights of the local police and guess you’re close to the scene, you don’t expect to see a small, blue airplane, looking toy-like, pulled over on the center median.
But that was my experience this past Friday. What the _____?
I was heading to a book lecture in Hyde Park, at Co-Op Books, on the University of Chicago campus.
I was excited because I knew the author and because the topic was current and political.
I left home early, knowing that it was a rough time to attempt a cross-town journey — but apparently, not early enough. I was beginning to get down on myself for lack of good planning when the oddity of what I saw really penetrated my brain.
Who could have predicted this? I checked out the Chicago Tribune story in the following day’s paper.
Besides drivers, southbound and northbound, taking in this oddity, I remember seeing a good amount of people on the pedestrian bridge around 38th Street, overlooking the iconic Chicago boulevard, amazed at the circus.
Apparently, the pilot of this small craft was having mechanical problems and felt that he couldn’t make it to Midway, only a few miles west. Midway was the main airport in Chicago until 1955 and is now a runt cousin to O’Hare.
The paper quoted a witness, reporting that the plane “landed on the curb of Lake Shore Drive like you would if you were parking your car in front of your house.” The article went on to describe how cars in the southbound lanes “moved to the right as the plane came to a stop with a skid, bouncing up and down and leaving tire tracks in the far left lane.”
It got me thinking about miracles.
I don’t want to pretend to understand acts of God, or be able to discern what the difference is between a bona fide miracle and plain dumb luck, but, after witnessing this, it felt important not to dismiss the possibility of things turning out unexpectedly well.
Not only was the pilot’s life saved, but I think that everyone who saw the little blue, single engine Ercoupe 415-D were buoyed by witnessing the event.
Maybe that’s the most important aspect of this kind of event. Not only was a life saved, not only are the odds of the event happening again practically non-existent, it’s very worthwhile to take in how witnesses of this episode can be changed or inspired.
Perhaps, drivers who race down this route routinely will slow down a little, making the journey safer for others.
Maybe, after getting home from work this evening, albeit a little late, a father hugged his children and considered how glad he is to be alive.
Being changed by a little good news is no small thing.
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