After work last night, I went out to dinner and shopping with my daughters. As we were nearing home, we witnessed a hit-and-run accident. In fact, it happened right beside us. As we were about to go through an intersection, another car passed us in the left-hand turn lane, then veered into the oncoming lane making a left turn and clipping the front of an oncoming car. In the split-second that I realized what had happened and was looking for a safe place to pull over, Boom said, "They aren't going to stop," pointing to the car continuing west from the intersection.
"The hell they aren't," I said, noting that other cars were stopping to check on the disabled car in the intersection, and that I could give chase without fear of no once else rendering aid that might be needed.
The other driver was clearly accelerating, headed toward the highway. Nice try, but the beauty of mom-mobile SUVs are that they pack nearly 400 horsepower - you aren't going to outrun me on a straightaway. I am not sure if it was conscience, my bright lights in her rear-view, or the speed at which I hung with her, that got her to pull over - I never spoke to her, just sat there with her car and scowling face spotlighted in my headlights, as I talked to the 911 dispatcher. She finally stopped, threw her door open, cigarette in hand, glaring at us, and stumbled around to the front of her car. In hindsight, I wonder if her tire ran down or something else was damaged that caused her to stop. She wasn't concerned if anyone back at the accident scene was injured, just pissed that she was caught. We all thought she looked drunk - granted we were judging solely on her inability to walk straight and her bleary-eyed glare. She had pulled over in a very dangerous spot with no shoulder due to construction, so I didn't stay long, fearing that we would get hit sitting there in the road. I had to go a mile down the road to get turned around so that I could return to the original scene and identify myself to the officer, as directed by the dispatcher.
Granted, I wouldn't have chased anyone if I lived in a more dangerous area, or if the car looked like it belonged to some sort of thug. I am not stupid. My decision to follow was reinforced when we got back to the accident scene. The driver that had been hit was a sweet little gray-haired elderly woman. Luckily she wasn't hurt, but her car was pretty trashed. I spoke briefly to her, gave my information to the officer, and then headed home.
Curiosity got the better of us, and the girls encouraged me to circle around so that we could pass the site where the hit-and-runner (and the cops) were stopped. When we passed by, there was plenty of activity around her car, but no sight of her, building our hope that she was cuffed in the back of the cruiser. It would have been perfect, had she been doing a field sobriety test when we passed by. Oh well, can't have it all.
When we finally got home and headed to bed, Boom gave me a hug and said, "Thanks for letting me check car chase off of my bucket list." It wasn't really much of a chase, but kinda fun for a Friday night.