hi, my name is jeanette anderson. i survived an accident on december 30, 2008 that killed the most beautiful man on the planet, fritz hayden, of austin, texas.

fritz and i were riding together on his bike that afternoon to see a friend when a man driving a ford f-150 passed out at the wheel, crossed the median and hit us head-on. we were each traveling in excess of 70 mph when we crashed and fritz was thrown into the oncoming traffic lane. i spun across the road into the ditch. witnesses who saw the crash said they thought "i was a tire being blown off the truck."

i never lost consciousness at the site of the crash, but i never spoke with fritz again, either; as we were on opposite sides of the freeway, according to the accident report. fritz died that day of massive head trauma.

i endured seven surgeries in the six weeks i spent at brackenridge hospital in austin. i lost my right leg and am awaiting fitting for a prosthesis. the nurses at the trauma floor told me that "i should have died" given my massive injuries and internal bleeding. i received forty-seven pints of blood throughout my procedures to stop the internal bleeding. i am grateful for the gift of my life, but i am still in mourning.

my heart is still broken from the loss of my friend. his friends held a benefit within a week of the crash and raised a generous sum of money as well as an outpouring of support for me and my father. their love and support was transcendent and healing for both of us. fritz's family, as well, reached out to us in love and kindness. for these gifts, i am humbled and indebted.

i am seeking the contact of other crash survivors or of friends of fritz's to sustain me as i recover from this horrible event. please write.

sincerely,

jeanette
duluth, minnesota

i forgot to include my email address.

please contact me at jeanetteanderson@charter.net

thanks.

Hello Jeanette,

Fritz sounds like he had as many friend that cared as much for him, as he did them. That IS what brotherhood is about. We've all lost another good person needlessly. You were one of the precious few who called him "friend".I'm sure he was as blessed by that as you were.

I've sent you an email as well, but I want to say here How much your story touches the heart of many similar people like yourself. I wish you well. Yours is a story needing to be told in hopes of waking people up to the hurt & loss you and too many others have been through.

It sounds as though you left the support of Fritz's people in the need of recovery assistance. I'm betting you are still in their hearts.

I'm happy to say this is one place you can find more of that kind of support, should you want it or need it.Garry Van Kirk, this sites' creator, has not been able to stay tuned in as much as he'd like lately, but believe me, He's glad to have you find us.

If there is anything you need in the line of info or just moral support, you can & will find it here.Keep the faith, keep smiling,& keep us in your thoughts. We'll do the same for you! There is always strength in numbers.
My thoughts go out to Fritz and his family as well. May he ride in peace & in good company forever.

jeff,

thank you for your kind words of support. i am grateful to have found this site, and to have had the contact shared. there could never be enough words of encouragement or shared experience through this stillness. i miss the wind on my face. i miss the most intimate and inconsequential things we all do every day--like getting out of bed without ten minutes of painful movements before i place that one foot on the floor and reach for my walker.

now i spend most of my days not moving. not walking. managing my pain. surviving my spasms and phantom pain, both of which are excruciating and humbling, at best. there is a limbo that occurs in recovery wherein you don't see the 'new normal.' i'm grateful for the love and attendance of my eighty-four year old father, in whose home i recover. but i'm an adult woman who has had to surrender my own home, until i can walk in my prosthetic leg i have yet to bring home. (i live in a home on a steep hill, with many steps too narrow to navigate with a walker.)

my joy, my movement, my love was taken away in a moment. recovery is a grueling spritual journey that has stripped me to the bone. i invite anyone to write that wants to share their story. remind me that the world still spins on its axis, and i will join the rest of us one day in an upright position.

sincerely,

jeanette