Horse & Buggy Accident!

You would never know it, because I’m really a whole lot older than I look, but I’m one of very few people living anymore who can boast of surviving a horse and buggy accident.

See, a long, long time ago—back when a camera, clock, calculator, phone, music player and video recorder were all separate devices—I harnessed my family into an adventure in the 19th Century.

It was Labor Day and our first visit to the Laurel Highlands of southwestern Pennsylvania. We had come to Old Bedford Village, a living history hamlet where the colonial period was full on display for the education and entertainment of its guests.

It was there we innocently boarded a wooden-wheeled carriage for a short, horse-drawn tour through the late summer countryside. Our full company included my wife Carol and me, our four children ages 3? – 8, a young couple expecting their first child very soon, and our 80-year-old driver. Off we started at a lazy, laid-back pace.

But soon, the clip-clopped cadence of Queenie’s hooves rose from walk, to trot, to canter, to gallop. From the driver’s seat came a few, low and feeble, pleading commands—apparently so as to not startle either the passengers OR the horse: “Whoa, Queenie… whoa, Queenie…!”

But Queenie didn’t whoa. In fact, she paid no attention to the increasing cries of the little old driver or to her increasingly alarmed passengers. I aimed my bouncing head out the side window to witness the horsepower boost coming from a gray-dappled rump. The driver’s reins led to no effect on her front end, where, despite wearing blinders, her wide, wild eyes stared upward and to the right. As I followed skyward, a large colorful kite swooped into view.

Now, knowing what your problem is doesn’t always lead to an immediate solution! Oh, we understood the arithmetic all right: 1 large kite + 1 spooked horse = 1 runaway buggy filled with tender, bruisable people! But our difference-making resources from the back of the carriage were, sadly, quite limited.

Oblivious to all dangers but the kite, Queenie galloped straight ahead with her neck craned far to the right. Soon we entered an area with many people who were quickly discovering they’d better run or get run over. (Run… away! It’s a Runaway!)

Queenie slammed her neck into the corner of a building and collapsed. The buggy mounted the porch, separating spokes from rims from axles, and splintered apart. All of us hapless riders careened into the front, left corner of the buggy, piling up, as it happened, on my wife Carol.

With Queenie down and front wheels broken, our vehicle slumped on its side, making it even harder to distinguish each other’s tangled body parts in the messy heap of human cargo. Now to the rescue came the formerly fleeing refugees, who held up our fractured fairy tale of a coach long enough for us to hand the children through the side window to willing hands and helpers.

After we had all clambered from the wreck, and were gratefully awaiting minor medical attention, I realized that the camera around my neck was responsible for the gash on my forehead, and—hey!—still had one last picture left on my roll of Kodak slide film. It shows Carol on the ground holding her aching leg and knee with one hand while the other reined in our excitable 8-year-old from further unrestrained exploits.

A horse-and-buggy accident in 1989, I daresay, was a unique experience even then. Yet, like most catastrophes from which you survive, can be interpreted for a life lesson or two:

1. No matter where we are or what we’re doing, trouble can suddenly swoop out of the clear blue on us. And though it may pursue or even lead us for a while, remember that it does come, eventually, to a conclusion; and:

2. Consider yourself forewarned whenever you find yourself following a horse’s rear end!

Some additional professional-level lessons:

Our troubles were not of our own making, but they were real and needed to be addressed. Fortunately, Old Bedford Village responded appropriately to resolve the current needs and make the future better for its guests, stakeholders and the organization itself. And here’s the further lesson:

·??It responded with relevant action. It provided immediate care for both horse and human victims. It re-evaluated its policies concerning horse-drawn carriages through busy grounds and the potentially disrupting or conflicting activities like flying two-fisted kites.

·???It expanded its capacity to meet the need. They called in trained professionals to transport us to the hospital and check our wellness and treat our wounds.

·???It increased its influence. Its administrators followed up on our care and even checked in on us weeks later. By applying its lessons learned, Old Bedford Village enhanced the safety and overall visitor experience of many thousands of future guests.