Miracle at Malibu Wines

by Alyssa Ramos

No, the miracle at Malibu Wines was not that there was a fountain of wine, but it was what happened immediately after the head on collision with a motorcycle and a Prius that I saw as I walked up on Sunday afternoon. I wasn’t confident if writing about the incident would be acceptable at first, but I’m way as well thankful for the people today who occurred to be around when it happened, and the motorcyclist’s fast pondering and smart usage of safety gear, to let the miracle be unheard.

Considering about it still puts a knot in my stomach and a drilling feeling in my head. My date and I had just arrived to Malibu Wines, and had been walking across the dirt driveway entrance when the shrilling sound of tires screeching and metal colliding exploded on the narrow, winding highway in front of us. I try to remember screaming, and jolting about so violently that I hit my date in the back as we each watched in horror as a motorcyclist flew more than a Prius and about 150 ft behind it, onto the road.

I thought for sure he was dead. The Prius was driving on the incorrect side of the road and hit him head-on. I watched my date’s face register what occurred and in a split second we each started running towards him. I watched as the motorcyclist rolled himself into the dirt on the side of the road, writhing in discomfort, producing my legs really feel like Jell-O and my head feel faint.

“Stay here.” My date instructed as he ran into the road. I did as I was told, recognizing that he would know what to do. I stood frozen on the side of the hot, dusty highway, incoherently clutching my mouth as I watched the man shout in discomfort as he examined his body. From exactly where I was standing, his foot looked either bent in half, or missing, and I attempted not to decipher what the object lying a handful of feet away in the road was. Two of the valet guys ran more than to help, but my date was already strategically examining his legs and keeping him calm.

This motorcyclist was struck head-on by a Prius, and flew 150 ft onto the road, thankfully he’s OK!

“Does that guy know what he’s doing?” Another valet guy asked from behind me, who was also watching my date’s roadside assistance. “Yes, he’s a surgeon.” I replied quietly, still choked up from the shock. “Wow, that guy’s really fortunate you guys had been right here.” He said, acknowledging the coincidence. Two far more valet guys jogged up with a hand-held Cease sign and the 3 of them ran to the road in front of the fallen motorcycle to direct traffic about the accident. 

Following the man was aligned, my date removed his leather jacket and helmet, revealing thick salt and pepper hair, and a bloody face. “Towels! Can a person get towels!” My date yelled, and at once a handful of valet guys ran and returned with towels for the man’s face. He had finally gotten him to lie down and calm down when the ambulance and police arrived.

“That guy is so fortunate to be alive,” My date said as he walked back more than to me with bloody hands, “he mentioned appropriate as he saw the vehicle coming around the corner on the incorrect side of the road, he lifted himself off the seat of the bike to stay away from going via the windshield.” I looked back at the road in disbelief at the Prius whose front appropriate finish was smashed with the motorcycle laying in front of it, and the distance from it, which the man was laying, seemingly unscathed. “If it wasn’t for that and all of his gear, it would have been a lot worse.” He added.

It turned out that the guy driving the Prius on the incorrect side of the road was a student on visa from Japan, where driving on the left side of the road typical, while we don’t actually know the full story. Soon after the ambulance took the man away and my date washed the blood off of his hands, we headed inside Malibu Wines for a much-necessary glass of nerve-calming wine. 1 of the employees members named Jeff, who had also witnessed the whole point, was gracious adequate to give us a complimentary bottle wine, which absolutely helped us unwind a bit even even though I drank the majority of it given that he was driving. 

My date had put his card in the man’s wallet and offered to repair the lacerations on his face for free of charge, and the subsequent day the man called to thank him, and inform him that he only had a fractured rib and a handful of fractures in the leg that I thought was bent in half. The moral of the story is to be thankful you’re alive, and be cautious of men and women about you, particularly on the road. And also preferably to in no way drive a motorcycle.