Psychic Spectator, 13 years ago today.

I remember seeing this cover 13 years ago. 15 days before the famous crash and death of Princess Diana.
I had no idea then how accurate The Spectator would be. Though even then she had the James Dean, Monroe shadow to her.
I saved it from the bin pile and stuck it on our 'door of drama and the unusual', when it became more significant.

Under it is a photo of a car I was in when it hit a railway bridge at high speed, spinning over, and lying turtle like with it's wheels whirring in the rainy night.

I had been in the car for only a matter of minutes, I had not had time to put on my seat belt. I was to busy leaning forward talking to the people in the front.

The car lost it's grip on the wet road. I held onto the seat for dear life, as we hit one side, then the other of the heavy stone bridge, then span. Then hit the road with it's roof.

The seconds it took me to realise, from my hunched position in the corner of the roof that I could move OK were so long. I have never been so grateful to be able to flex my feet.

An off duty policeman stopped the traffic from driving into us. He said he had seen us charge toward him then take off into the air, as the lights went from the top to bottom of his view.
I climbed out of the car, to what seemed like a disappointed little crowd which had formed round the fairly wrecked car.
My head seemed to go like an old flower stem as soon as I was clear.

We were taken for Xr-ays etc at a hospital in an ambulance. We got home hours later. At about the same time as or host, who had been on the train from London to their local station. But his train had been held up by the amount of rubble our impact had left on the line. He was then met by a policeman who told him of our crash, but with no details. He must have been pleased to see us get out of the taxi. The taxi driver's father had built the bridge.

We all had a late midnight supper. And drank too much. A celebration of being OK, even if the car wasn't. It was such a relief to be walking, even though with a hideous thing bracing my neck.

I was told I could have claimed a huge amount on insurance. But I thought I had had enough luck. It could have been so so much worse.

I am not into sentimentalising the death of a celebrities but I have a deep flash of sympathy for anyone who has experienced the seconds before and after any form of high impact in a car.

I was fine, until the next day, when I saw the shirt King Charles the 1st had been beheaded in. That is when I cried for the first time. But maybe would have even without the car incident.