It must be hell down there. Abandon all hope, all ye who enter the on ramp.
Souls trapped in cars, bladders screaming for relief, precious fuel burning while the motor wears as it idles. Trapped in the end game of the myth of the open road. Some bought the fast car, when the truth is they are really no different than the rest of us. All waiting on the Interstate to get home.
Circle back Paul we need to get a better angle on the back up.
And the fatality. What was it, a cigarette, a cell phone, a distraction on the side of the freeway? You know it is bad when it is a fatality at the scene.
It’s 5 oh 5, lets go to Paul and Rick in the KSTP air patrol, you there Rick?
Unbelievable! We’re solid as a brick on the interstate at the stadium exit, clearing an earlier fatality still under investigation and still blocking two lanes. I could recommend Highway 12 as an alternate but it’s just as bad.
Fatality at the scene. The clutch of emergency vehicles suggest more than the fatality. Rarely is there one person hurt.
And tomorrow all that will be left of this are skid marks, a mangled guard rail and some trees that have been knocked down. In time orange construction lights will replace the flashing red and blue, and a crew will go about the business of removing the bent guard rail and installing a new shining replacement. The trees will grow back.
Legions of motorists will pass this place, unaware of the drama of this afternoon. Most American battlefields have some kind of marker or remembrance. The carnage that is the commuter battlefield warrants none. Just average people cut down in the service of their families due to the negligence of others they never had reason to know would be the cause of so much pain.
Rick we are getting low on fuel we need to head back to the station.
KSTP air patrol filing a final report. It looks to be a long evening for everyone southbound on the interstate. Avoid the stadium exit at all costs. Fair thee well motorists, and God Bless. We are history.