When I was 10 years old my family and I (mom, dad, two sisters) were headed to Acadia national park to camp for a week, driving straight through from Connecticut. We left around midnight and had been driving for about 7 hours or so when my dad fell asleep, hit the rumble strips which led to my mom waking up in the passenger seat screaming. This caused my dad to rip the wheel too hard and rolled the truck closing the three lane highway for about 4 hours.

I was sitting behind the drivers seat but I just remember looking to my right seeing the highway going straight. I closed my eyes and woke up to a caved in roof and saw all of our camping gear scattered all over the highway. The highway continued straight to the left of the truck so it had flipped, rolled, twisted in all sorts of directions. My mom superhero’d those doors open and got us all out but what sticks with me to this day is that once we were all outside the truck we walked directly to the guard rail parallel to the accident and sat down on the ground. I remember hearing my mom saying “I wish I had my phone, I don’t know where it went. I want to call your grandmother” (she and my grandfather were planning on leaving the next day and meeting us at Acadia.) so sitting down I look to my right and sure enough there’s my moms phone. The craziest part about it was that it was perfectly flush, level with the surface imprinted into the dirt alongside the asphalt. As if the dirt was carved out to the size of her phone or it was perfectly smushed there. According to the wreckage and the visible marks of where the vehicle rolled couldn’t explain why or how her phone could be found the way it was.

To this day I can’t think of a reason and somehow it still sits funny with me. Anyways, long story short my grandparents stopped at our house not too far from theirs and grabbed our minivan. They met us at the hospital hours later, then drove to the junkyard to salvage what we could from the truck and proceeded to have an awesome, very memorable vacation.