@patrickcolucci4951

1 year ago

DEAD MAN's CURVE - Eiler Lane and Taxter Road East Irivngton NY. Recntly I drove back to my home town from Philadelphia and past a spot on Taxter Road where I had left some blood and tears so many years ago. It was late at night one June night in 1970 a week before my wedding. I had way to much to drink. I was sitting in Neil's Bar in North Tarrytown with my good buddy Larry . We flipped a coin. He won the car I got the bike. We decided to race through all the red lights in Tarrytown New York on our way back to to that winding strip of roadway in East Irvington called Taxter Road. By time I made it to Sunnyside lane I was way ahead so I slid up to cement steps of the East Irvington corner store where I waited, revving my throttle until I heard the roar of Larry's engine. Just then I pointed my machine toward the roadway. With an extra twist of the throttle amid sparks and flying gravel the bike straightened out, and I continued snake-like up Taxter Road. I was fast approaching the first curve at the schoolyard with the telephone pole on the corner which jutted toward the road. I headed straight for the telephone pole and didn't ease up on the gas. I laughed madly as I rapidly approached the pole, as I had done on prior occaisions playing a deadly game of tag. All of a sudden sparks flew as my handlebar struck nail heads buried in the pole. The force of contact hurled the bike toward the opposite lane as I instinctively regained control and continued to fly up the twisted roadway at incredible speed, even though blood trickled down my right arm from several splinters, which had lodged in my shoulder. I was going flat out when I reached the tight corner at Eiler Lane. That's when I lost control as the back tire hit the gravel. I did my best along the bumpy shoulder as the bike flipped and I landed on top of it, my two hands outstretched still holding the handlebars as my twisted legs dragged behind. The eerie sound of metal sliding quickly over pavement filled the night as sparks lit up the road. The pavement was hot and unforgiving as it burnt and scraped the parts of my body, which spilled over the machine as it slid with incredible force. For a few seconds my fate was uncertain. Then with sudden impact I struck the pole, crumbling the machine and causing my face to spew hot blood, as I and the bike were finally separated and flung in opposite directions. I could hear the screeching of Larry's car as it stopped some distance behind me. I didn't know how badly I was hurt until I tried to raise my twisted body from the roadway. As I sat up blood spewed from my face. As I raised my hand my finger passed right through the gash in my nose. I began to see flashes of white light, It was like an opera as I vacillated between the horror of my condition and the peaceful defense that only the state of shock could offer. There was a loud sound of rushing wind in my ears as I felt myself being drawn toward the light and feelings of immortality. There was no pain, only tremendous energy. And then there was the voice. The desperate voice of Larry calling out to me, imploring me to "hold on!..... Larry picked me up from the pavement and drove me toward Phelp's Memorial hospital. I had lost so much blood that when we arrived I looked up at the lights of the emergengency room and asked why he had taken me there? It wasn't until I looked down at my blood soaked shirt that I rememebered the tragic incident earlier on that hot summer night. I often wondered why the Lord din't take me that night. I now realize that there is so much work yet left undone... Lord have mercy on me a sinner. Patc

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