My God! They Hit Head-On!
by Pastor Dave and Joanne Beckwith
How could a driver be so drunk? Was she trying to commit suicide? Anyone in their right mind could see the glaring spotlight and flashing red and white lights of the patrol car racing beside them. California Highway Patrol Officer Tom Long turned on the electronic siren while Officer Gary Haley screamed over the PA system for her to pull over. She responded like a mummy in a tomb. Looking straight ahead, she just kept driving into oncoming traffic as panicked drivers darted to the right and to the left. How long could this go on? Death, hers and perhaps innocent others, was inevitable if she were not stopped.
A Wrong-Way Driver on the Freeway
During the early morning hours of Sunday, August 30th, Officers Haley and Long were performing routine duties patrolling the freeway between Ventura and Santa Paula, California. They followed several cars and prepared to stop one for speeding. Suddenly, the Officers noticed cars ahead of them veering erratically. Some swerved right, others swerved left. They all slowed. Then, they saw two headlights coming straight at them. It was a nightmare before their eyes . . . a wrong way driver on the freeway.
A few minutes earlier, with a blood alcohol level of .18, the driver of a small, foreign made sedan entered the off ramp of the freeway into oncoming traffic. Quickly responding to the wrong way driver, Officer Long veered the patrol car to the shoulder of the road and flashed his red lights at her. Officer Haley focused the bright spotlight at her to get her attention. Seemingly oblivious to the warnings, Mrs. Vanderlinden drove by. The race against death had begun.
Traffic was too heavy for Officer Long to turn the patrol vehicle around. In desperation, he tried backing up along the shoulder of the freeway while steering clear of oncoming traffic. It was no use. They were quickly losing her. Then, finding an opening in the center divider, he shot across to the other side of the freeway. After turning around in the center divider, they raced to catch the wrong way driver. Once parallel with her, they flashed warnings at her for several miles. "We could see her ... almost like sitting next to her," said Haley. "The red and white lights still did no good. I got on the outside PA system and started screaming at her to get over. He (Long) got on the electronic siren. She just continued looking straight ahead, driving up the road. She never even looked up, right or left." When the futility of their chase became obvious, Haley and Long attempted to warn oncoming traffic. Despite their efforts, two approaching vehicles could not see the warning lights ahead.
It was now 1:40 A.M. I was driving one of the oncoming cars returning from a youth trip to a Dodger baseball game. My passengers included my wife, Joanne, and four teenagers, Jerry Reich, Dennis Sprik, Larry Thiesen, and John Sigala. For several miles, an off duty Sheriff's Deputy, Dan Bowlin, drove side by side in the lane next to me. Through the window, I could see his uniform as I kept a close eye on my speedometer. Ahead was a gentle, rolling hill a familiar, welcome site indicating home was just a few miles further.
Suddenly, without warning, coming over the top of the hill, I saw two headlights aimed straight at me. The glare was blinding. Officer Bowlin, traveling in the right hand lane, swerved to safety. Panicked, I swerved right, but too late. The small Toyota crashed into the left front of the Pontiac I was driving. The screaming, screeching sound of metal clashing and bending pierced the night as the two vehicles collided at a combined speed of 130 miles per hour. The Toyota was crushed like a cardboard box killing Maxine Vanderlinden instantly.
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Charred remains of the 1961 Pontiac that Dave was rescued from before it burned. |
"My God! They hit head on!" yelled Haley. Officer Long raced through the center divider with the patrol vehicle. Haley and Long jumped out of the car and ran toward the Pontiac I had been driving. My wife, Joanne, crawled out of the car with blood streaming down her face and staggered toward the Officers screaming, "Help us! Oh, my God help us!" Two of the teenagers had managed to escape the car. The other two teenagers were in the back of the car, one on the car seat, the other on the floor. Unconscious, I was trapped behind the steering wheel of the car.
Officer Haley crawled into the back seat of the car pulling one teenager to safety as flames leaped from the engine compartment. Officer Long grabbed the fire extinguisher, shooting it at the flames. It did no good. Haley then carried the other teenager to safety as the flames continued to spread. Five had been rescued, one was left in the car.
With the engine compartment in flames, it was obvious the car could explode at any moment. I was not only trapped behind the steering wheel, but the driver's door was crushed and jammed. Realizing I was still in the car, Joanne crawled in the passenger side attempting in vain to pull me free from the burning vehicle. Only a miracle from God could now spare my life. The strength of the crushed door certainly exceeded human strength and special equipment would be required to open the door. Risking their lives as the flames continued to spread, Joanne and the Officers put all their strength into opening the driver side door. It wouldn't budge! In one final attempt, they pulled on the door, and it opened. Without a doubt, it was a miracle! With the smoke and heat growing stronger, they grabbed a hold of me: "I couldn't extract Beckwith," Haley said, "If we didn't get him out he was going to go. He was screaming. I knew I was hurting him, but I'd rather have him hurt than dead. The car was burning, and I was trying to get him out as best I could." With a final pull, my body was finally freed from the mangled dash and crumpled steering wheel which had pinned me inside the car. They pulled me to safety only seconds before the car exploded and was engulfed in flames.
With the screeching sound of sirens, the smell of burning fuel, and flames piercing through the black darkness, I regained consciousness. "Where was I? What was going on?" In this setting of flashing lights and leaping flames, I heard a voice . . . almost like the voice of an angel! "The Lord is my Shepherd . . . " Perhaps, I had died and gone to heaven. But then, I recognized the voice . . . and the face. Joanne! My bride of 15 months. I was alive, my life had been spared. "Thank you, God. You are so good to me." Bits of broken glass pierced my back as it pressed against the pavement. Slowly, I realized I was lying In the middle of the freeway. Then I remembered . . . two headlights coming straight at me! I drifted In and out of consciousness. Joanne, calm in assurance and deep In faith, continued as I regained consciousness, ". . . even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for Thou art with me." My life had been spared by a miracle from God.
With deep gratitude, I realized my life had been spared. Little did I know the next few months would be difficult beyond comprehension.
Tough Times
Following the summer of youth ministry, Joanne and I were unemployed, and our first born child, Julie, was two months old. Joanne had one year to go to complete her nurses training at Biola College (now Biola University), and I was enrolled for my first year at Talbot Theological Seminary. Our bank account was next to nothing and neither of our families had resources to assist us with schooling or living expenses. Our only vehicle, a 1961 Pontiac wedding gift, was burned and destroyed beyond recognition. To help us out, Joanne's father loaned us a car. About a week later, I came out from the apartment to discover the borrowed car had been stolen. The car was not insured for theft so we now owed another bill, and we were still without a car. I had miraculously suffered only a broken wrist, several broken teeth, puncture wounds to both sides of the neck, and leg scratches. Joanne suffered a deep cut through her left cheek that went to the bone, and only a fraction of an inch from her eye. The surgery required three layers of stitches, and God had spared her eye. The depression was overwhelming as thousands of dollars of medical bills buried us in debt.
What was God doing in our lives? I now know God was dealing with my pride. A few months prior to the accident, I graduated from Biola with my B.S. degree in Business Administration. During my college years, I received many accolades and assumed the world couldn't wait for my leadership skills to arrive. I was in for a big surprise. I began to apply for positions in the business world thinking some company would certainly want me as part of their executive staff. The Chairman of the Biola Business Department, Bob Livingston, was certain a position would open up. Surprisingly, I couldn't even get an interview. For two months, I pursued every lead and never received a single interview. Finally, Bob Livingston called to say he had a job opening.
"What company?" I asked.
"Dart Transportation in Los Angeles," he said.
"All right," I said. "Finally an interview. What's the position and salary?"
"This may not be your dream position," Bob Livingston said, "but they have an opening for loading trucks on the PM shift. It pays $5.00 per hour. You will be working off the dock loading Sears freight for Dart Transportation."
My disappointment was obvious on the phone, but I needed a job. During the year ahead, I worked the PM shift to feed the family sometimes getting home no earlier than 10:00 PM and sometimes working until 2 or 3 AM in the morning. Talbot classes started at 7:30 AM and dismissed at 12 Noon or 1 PM. Between classes and work, I had a couple of hours for study.
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Pastor Dave and Joanne Beckwith 25th Anniversary |
Somehow, we obtained a loan and purchased a used 1965 Chevy. Only a few weeks after the purchase, I looked away for a moment while pulling into a parking space and smashed in the right front fender. What next? In our apartment, the stereo caught on fire. A few weeks later, my billfold was stolen and someone began racking up credit card charges. I was attending Talbot Theological Seminary, but my attitude was negative, and I was disillusioned with school and life in general.
The closed doors in the business world were God's leading to steer me towards the ministry. Pride was crumbling. God was faithful to His Word: "And those who walk in pride he is able to humble." Daniel 4:37 (NIV). The lean, tough years were necessary to learn God's ways just as it was for Israel in the wilderness.
Remember how the LORD your God led you all the way in the desert these forty years, to humble you and to test you in order to know what was in your heart, whether or not you would keep his commands. Deut. 8:2 (NIV).
It was true that "a man's pride brings him low," Prov. 29:23 (NIV). For God to prepare and use a person, He must first break them. God was faithful in His work in my life.