The scene was a horrific one and we feared the worst.
We do a lot of traveling all over South Jersey to create and deliver each issue of this paper and we were out for a drive through the gently rolling hills of Salem County one day last month when we came upon what we were sure was going to be a tragedy.
Up ahead of us was what remained of a pickup truck.
Its front end was obliterated. It was stopped dead in the middle of an intersection with bits and pieces of it strewn all over the two roads along with canned goods from that weekend’s shopping trip.
On the corner was a family of three, seated on the ground.
To our right as we approached, another pickup had come to a rest down an embankment in a farm field.
It was obvious it had rolled at least once. It was upright on its wheels but the roof was caved in and the windshield was crushed out.
It was also obvious it came to a rest facing back towards the direction it had been traveling. The force from the impact in the intersection had spun it around and flipped it over.
A young woman laid on the ground with her back resting against the driver side front tire of the battered vehicle. Her companion, frantic and livid, stood next to her in the field, alternating between trying to comfort her and shouting to no one in particular about how angry he was.
A few other passersby stopped to help, but no emergency personnel had arrived yet. It was clear this had just happened.
We pulled over to see if anyone was seriously injured, if 9-1-1 had been called and if there was anything we could do.
Miraculously, at least at first glance, it didn’t appear anyone was too badly hurt. The young couple from the flipped truck said emergency services had been called and were on their way.
Just then a woman from the family in the other truck was trudging her way through the field to check on the young couple. She was apologizing profusely and said she wanted to see if anyone was hurt.
She said her son, who was in the car with them, is autistic and that he started yelling and screaming in the car just as they were coming to the intersection. That distraction, she said, caused them to miss the stop sign, leading to the collision.
The young man with the wrecked truck was not receptive to her apologies, nor was he sympathetic toward her explanation.
I’m no hero, but at this point I felt I should get out of our car to possibly intervene if necessary. I just didn’t want to see this situation go from bad to worse – for anyone involved.
I positioned myself between them and focused my attention on her, trying as gently as I could to express that this might not be the best time for a conversation.
I walked with her as she headed back towards her truck and family, who were still at the corner.
Soon after, the man from that group also started walking over towards us and the truck with the young couple.
I headed him off even sooner and again explained that the situation was tense and that he should probably wait for a better time to chat once things cooled down.
It was painful to see in his face just how distraught he was over the accident. He too turned and walked back over to his group, seemingly dazed by all that had happened in the blink of an eye.
“We were having a good day – then this,” he said, as he walked back, repeating: “We were having a good day. We were having a good day..”
It was absolutely devastating.
State troopers and rescue personnel then appeared on the scene. We moved our vehicle to get out of their way, and we left soon after.
We went about our day of trying to spread a little joy and positivity with our little paper, after experiencing first hand a bit of the human misery that exists in this world.
Since that day, I’ve thought about it often, especially now as we come to this annual time of reflection with the holidays and the coming new year.
It’s not an uncommon thing to look back and think of things you wished you had said in a particular moment.
I was too crushed by his sadness, but in hindsight, I wish I had the presence of mind to remind that bewildered father that despite the momentary sense of loss and confusion, he was still “having a good day.”
I don’t know if it would have brought him any comfort in that moment to hear me say that, but things could have ended up much, much worse than they did that day. Everyone survived and appeared to have walked away avoiding life-threatening injury.
We sincerely hope that everyone involved in that crash that day is recovering physically, emotionally and even financially.
Material things can be replaced. Lives can’t be. By that measure, it was a good day.
We want to wish everyone a Merry Christmas, a Happy New Year, and many more good days to come in 2026!
Cheers!
–Joe D’Aquila