Thankfully, no other vehicle was traveling through the intersection. My first visual memory of the crash is seeing myself sliding through the intersection. I have no memory of the first thirty or forty feet of movement. My truck stopped in the grass median before crossing into the opposite lanes of traffic.
The driver of the other vehicle was visibly intoxicated. He couldn't walk without stumbling. His speech was slurred. He couldn't say his ABC's to the responding officer. He blew a .19 on his breath test, twice the legal limit in Alabama. He kept telling me he was on his way to Dothan to eat steak. Instead he was taken to the Dale County Jail.
The irony: I had just finished teaching a class about substance abuse with a group of teenagers.
I don't want to die from another person's stupidity. It's easy enough to die on the road without alcohol. The guy who hit me kept apologizing. I kept thinking his apology does nothing to change what happened. And if someone had been killed his apology would have been as worthless as his breath.