"Won't come back from Dead Man's Curve" from “Dead
Man’s Curve” by Jan
Berry & Carl
Dean (Jan & Dean)
At the southwest corner of the Island, and at the very top
of Red Hill, the road curves sharply – almost at 90°. Coming onto the Island
for the first time or for any driver unfamiliar with the lay of the land, it
can be a little difficult to manage the turn, especially after the sun has set
for the evening.
There were so many accidents there, at least a couple of
them fatal, that the spot eventually became known as “Dead Man’s Curve.” The
narrow black-top road is bordered on both sides by the largest oaks found
anywhere on the Island, and the yaupon bushes that sat underneath them were
very little cushion for cars that failed to make the turn. The oak trees themselves
remained firm and whatever hit them, man or machine, stopped immediately on
impact.
Aerial view of the turn at Red Hill (Dead Man's Curve) |
Weekend nights, when servicemen stationed on the mainland
would frequent the Island’s movie theater and stores, was when most of the accidents
occurred. It was well after midnight one summer Saturday that one of those
happened. What ensued in the aftermath was told to me by a good friend who
lived close enough by that he heard both the screeching of tires and the impact
that followed. He, along with his father
were there even before a lone NC Highway patrolman arrived to investigate and make
his report. He later told to others what he had observed.
After an ambulance had removed the badly injured driver from
the wreck and carried him away towards the closest hospital in Morehead City,
the trooper retired to his squad car to prepare his preliminary report. In the
warm summer air, he was quietly discussing with some of the witnesses what they
first had heard and later noticed as they arrived on the scene. It was while
engaged in that conversation that onlookers noticed that asleep in the back
seat of the officer’s car was someone wearing handcuffs, and apparently
inebriated, who had been arrested by the patrolmen just before he had been
called to respond to the accident at Red Hill.
As the back-seat passenger began to awake, he grew
increasingly restless and uncomfortable, not fully aware of where he was or why
he was locked up in the back of a patrol car.
“What is it, where am I, what’s going on?” was all he could say
as he looked toward the officer and saw the flashing lights from atop the car
reflecting off the surroundings.
Still focused on the incident at hand, the officer paid him
scant attention, but eventually did turn in his direction to say simply, “It
was a really bad accident.”
Even more confused and curious, the detainee immediately followed
up by asking, “Who was it?”
The officer paid even less attention than before and
responded simply, “It was some drunk.”
Now, totally alarmed and extremely agitated, the prisoner shouted
out, “Oh me! Was I hurt?”
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