Just like the Man in Black once crooned, my job often takes me to all corners of North Carolina.
In my 10 (!) years as a journalist, I have covered varying levels of news and sports in four states around the Southeast. One day, I will sit down and do the math on just how many games have been documented by yours truly, which surely has played a role in my rapidly-increasing gray hair.
February was nothing short of the most exhausting month of my professional career. But before we get there, let’s back up to the last month of January, when things changed rather swiftly.
To be more precise, in a span of 10-15 seconds.
I had the whole weekend mapped out. Knowing the arduous schedule ahead, I anticipated a restful slumber at home, save for a trip to Fontana Village for all-you-can-eat crab legs Saturday night and traversing to Sweetgum for church Sunday morning.
If you need a refresher, it snowed that weekend. But as I sat at home – reading posts on Facebook that the road was clear and seeing crews salt the path – I opted to head out nonetheless, anticipating the meal ahead. Creeping up the mountain, the road was as advertised: clear. Traffic was in front of and behind me … until I entered an unsuspecting curve. Around 5:30 p.m., my Honda Accord found a patch of black ice – which, in hindsight, had to have simply frozen back over, despite the efforts of road crews throughout the day. Even though I had driven in much worse weather, this one got me. Big time.
My car careened out of control, skidding across the shoulder before there was no more shoulder to cover. Helpless, I rode along as the Honda overturned three times, down a steep ravine. Coming to rest at long last against a set of trees, I quickly gathered my bearings.
The first thing I wanted to do was get out of that machine. I was not about to stick around and find out what happened next. The problem is, the car landed on the driver’s side (go figure), so after a few moments, I realized the car was still running. I rolled the passenger window down, stood up and climbed out. My cell phone had flown into the backseat, but I found it soon enough and began the ascent up the snowy bank.
Fortunately, a nice couple from Cherokee was also passing through to dine and gave me a lift to the resort, where I could call in the accident. I would like to commend Trooper Kosal Thach for being extremely helpful from that point forward in the evening. Special thanks to Eller’s Wrecker Service for getting my car out.
But readers, the highest praise goes to my Creator. The descriptor above barely paints an illustration of just how terrifying the whole experience was. My car was totaled, and yet I walked away with nothing but a bruised shoulder. Without God’s amazing grace, I would not be penning this column some five weeks later.
The irony of how many miles I have traveled in my career – but yet, experiencing the worst wreck so far just a few miles from home – is not lost on me. The sports cycle does not rest, however, so on the following weekend I was covering another state championship (in Greensboro). Then another the next weekend (in Winston-Salem), and yet another the following weekend (back in Greensboro).
Six of our local athletes brought home state gold last month – Aynsley Fink, Zoie Shuler, Kyle Fink, Kage Williams, Ben Wachacha and Alexis Panama – and I was privileged to be present for each of their individual successes.
While I have yet to hit the majority of the cities Johnny Cash rattles off in rapid succession, my career in the Southeast has been nothing short of a blessing.
Even if I needed a rental car to reach some of the destinations.
Kevin Hensley is the publisher/editor of The Graham Star. Thanks to a Valentine’s Day purchase, he will now arrive to events in a black Toyota Tacoma. RIP to the two Hondas he inadvertently totaled since moving to Robbinsville.