Tractor-trailer wreck snarls traffic

This was the title of the online news reports after a crash on Interstate 24 yesterday afternoon. The truck evidently went around a curve along the Tennessee River and smashed through the guard rail and over-turned into the opposite lane of traffic, spilling fuel and injuring the driver and passenger of the truck.

The article then goes on to say that both lanes of the Interstate were closed for five hours, backing up traffic in three directions. Why three? Because not only was Interstate 24 closed both ways, but Hwy 27 which feeds into the Interstate was closed.

You might wonder why I even noticed this bit of news as we have accidents on the Interstate quite often here in Chattanooga thanks to the central location of our town and the number of travelers who pass through it going from one destination to another. But yesterday, we were returning from a birthday party celebrating our grandson, Hayden’s first birthday. He lives in North Georgia and we have several options to get to and from his home. One is to take Interstate 75 and merge onto Interstate 24. If we had taken that route, guess where we would have spent the afternoon doing? Right, sitting in our car, unless we were able to exit off and drive through town to get home. The second option, to skirt around the foot of Lookout Mountain and then go through St. Elmo to Hwy 27, going north would have been simple and although we would have seen the traffic, we would not have been affected by it. The third option and the one we chose was to come in on Hwy 27 from the south and pick up Interstate 24.

You can imagine our concern when we began to merge onto the Interstate and saw the traffic at a complete stop. That was the bad news. The good news is that by staying in the far right lane, we were able to merge onto Hwy 27 north with ease and avoid any delay. But I knew the others on the highway were in for a while as it was a very eerie sight to see orange cones and police completely barricading the Interstate. As far as the eye could see there were no cars.

And yet as we followed our usual path home, we were continually exposed to drivers that most locals call “foreigners.” You know, that driver who is in town and doesn’t know where they are going, but follows the crowds or meanders in and out of traffic at a snail’s pace as if someone is directing them where and when to turn. Out-of-state license plates were everywhere, especially at the gas station at the bottom of our mountain. We stopped before climbing up the mountain to our home and I made a comment about the unusual amount of out-of-state cars. And then as we started up the mountain and noticed the slow-moving traffic and more foreigners, it hit us. There was someone (or something) directing them where to go. Their GPS (Global Positioning System) was diverting them from the Interstate, over our ridge, down into the next valley and back onto Interstate 24 beyond the accident. Maybe an hour and a half out of their way, but better than sitting five hours on the Interstate!

I couldn’t help but compare the GPS in those cars to the GPS within me. That still small voice that guides me to be the person I’m supposed to be; that puts me in the right position at the right time; and keeps my system (body, mind, spirit) functioning at perfect speed so that I get where I’m supposed to get every day.