There’s nothing more surreal than waking up in a hospital bed in a morphine haze, turning on the national news, and seeing the charter bus – mangled by an impact and the jaws of life – that you’d boarded 10 hours previously.

Ten years ago today, I was in college and working several part-time jobs. One of my gigs was instructing front-line percussion for my old high school’s marching band – a decorated, tightly-knit, huge band of bright and motivated kids. The band had just performed at the state championship competition in Whitewater, WI the previous night. They’d performed well, received high marks, and enjoyed a brief, energetic celebration before climbing on the buses. We were scheduled to get home by 3 AM. I took my spot on “Bus 1” and hoped to get some sleep before my college wind ensemble concert scheduled for the next day.

Thirty miles from home, unbeknownst to our bus caravan, a young truck driver a few miles up the road from us over-corrected after his semi started to veer into a steep ditch. The truck ended up on its side, jackknifed in such a way that it blocked all the westbound lanes of I-94. The bottom of the truck, the side without reflectors, was facing oncoming traffic. Based on a later NTSB re-creation, it would have been nearly impossible for our bus driver to see the truck in time to apply the brakes.

My bus, the first in the caravan, slammed into the truck at about 70 mph. Nearly everyone other than the bus driver was asleep at the time. I was sitting in the fourth row of the bus. I suffered life-threatening, disabling injuries. My right ankle and all the bones in that leg were broken. My right foot was dislocated (which is a thing that can happen, believe it or not). I continue to suffer from soft tissue damage that was done to my knee and ankle.  I had a fractured finger, a fractured bone next to my eye, a bad concussion, bruises, contusions, upholstery burns, and – most serious of all – deep lacerations on my scalp which severed an artery.

I was tended to by some brave first-responders and EMTs. When I got to the hospital, I received a massive blood transfusion and careful surgical work which saved my life. In my first couple of hours there, while they were prepping me for x-rays and surgery, the nurses answered my questions. I found out there were many people injured, some hurt as badly as me. I knew everyone on that bus: they were close friends, fellow staffers, former teachers, and students of mine.

I learned what I already suspected: There were fatalities. Five, actually.

Doug Greenhalgh, known to his students as “G”, was my boss and former band director. More than that, though, he was a great mentor and friend to myself and many, many others. He was 48 years old. His beloved wife Therese, 51, and their granddaughter Morgan, just 11 years old, also lost their lives that day. The bus driver, 78-year-old Paul Rasmus, was a retired veteran who had continued to drive our band because he liked working with us so much. Branden Atherton, who turned 24 that day, was a skilled educator, a classmate at my university, and a new friend to me.

Time doesn’t heal all wounds, but it definitely offers a salve. It has been ten years, and it sure has felt like ten years. Three thousand, six hundred and fifty-two days. Sixteen surgeries, performed by six different surgeons. Countless days on crutches and in physical therapy; quite a few mornings when I need to use my cane.

But I’ve been keeping track of other stuff, too. In that ten years, I’ve achieved a BA and an MA. I met and married a great guy. We bought a home and added another kitty to the household. We’ve traveled quite a bit. I landed a job I like in a city I love. I’ve made a lot of friends, tried new foods, and taken up new hobbies. Throughout it all, I’ve had unwavering support from the people who care about me.

To all my other Cardinals today; to all the UWEC people; to my friends, family, and everyone who was touched by this tragedy in some way: May the good of your next ten years outweigh the bad.

And because this is a music blog, here’s a mini-playlist of music that always makes me think of my time at Chi-Hi:

Forever Cardinal Bound.