Skip to main content

Written by Conor Hilton

Saturday, the 30th of January, I was driving to Park City for the Sundance Film Festival with some friends and had an absolutely horrific accident.

I was the driver, with my brother and another friend in the car. We were driving up Provo Canyon—it was 9:30 or so in the morning, lightly snowing, but the road report said that US-189 was clearer and better than I-15 and 80, so up we went. The roads were fine, until shortly before the turn-off for the Sundance Resort, where we hit a patch of ice, began to fish-tail, turning practically horizontal, front towards the median, before spinning back around, hitting the back end on the median and bending one of the poles or something (at least according to the officer that showed up). Then we moved across the two lanes of traffic to hit the front end on the guard rail, which deployed the airbags. At this point, apparently we shot into the air, making the car vertical, perpendicular to the road, creating a beautiful 90-degree angle. We should have started flipping and rolling, but we ended up falling back down, crossing both lanes of traffic again, as well as the open stretch of road between our side and oncoming traffic, before coming to a stop in the inside lane of oncoming traffic.

The Wreck in all its glory.

The Wreck in all its glory.

IMG_4008

The back end, which slammed into the median.

IMG_4010

The front, which attacked the guard-rail.

IMG_4009

The inside, with airbags and all the cracks in the windshield.

I was sitting in the driver’s seat, hands on the steering wheel. My brother in the passenger seat says that I was moving the wheel, and I remember watching my hands move it, but I don’t think I was doing the moving.

I’m pretty skeptical of the miraculous and the divine interventions in our day-to-day existence. I mean, it could be, but it seems like there are other explanations. However, I think there was some divine influence that day. I don’t know. I was driving, but feel like I was a passenger as someone or something else took the wheel. Was it Jesus? Probably not. I mean, he’s likely got better things to do. Was it my recently passed cousin, watching out for us? Was it some other angelic figure? Was it just my mind and body playing tricks on me, fight or flight reflexes kicking in without me thinking about it?

I don’t know what really happened. By all accounts we should have flipped and rolled. We should have hit another car or two or three. We should have walked out with a whole lot worse than some minor cuts and bruises and soreness (and a minor fracture in my friend’s sternum).

But we didn’t.

The car is absolutely totaled. Just destroyed, the back bumper was completely ripped off, the front was all sorts of mashed up, doors wouldn’t open, cracks all over the windshield, etc.

We’re fine.

How? I don’t know. Miraculous seems to me the only fitting word to describe what happened. Beyond my feelings that someone else took control of the vehicle, I feel that we were watched over that day. Why us? Why some intervention on our behalf? Why not totally stop the craziness and salvage the car too (not to be ungrateful)? Why not any of the countless others in need of divine intervention?

I have no answers for those questions. But I’ve heard there can be miracles if you believe—and I believe. I believe. Help my unbelief.

Leave a Reply