The time I died (1994)

a true story that I was recently asked to relate so I figured I'd post it here too

At 3:35 PM -0400 6/24/98, Christine Jesensky wrote:
>I was just telling someone the story of your backpack thief getting hit by
>a car, etc., and I don't think I got lots of the details right. So if you
>have a few minutes, could you type up the story for me? Kraig, the story
>tell-ee, wanted to know in particular if you got all your money and stuff
>back. He liked the story for its "Instant Karma" twist.

Oy, ok. This would probably good for the website anyways 8)

Well, I had gone up to Fitchburg State to visit my friend Tim. Per usual I got lost and stopped at a Cumberland Farms for directions. Go in, get directions and a drink and come out to find my backpack had been swiped from my car. Figured no one would look in a 1981 Rabbit for anything to steal but I guess I was wrong. I only had like a sweatshirt, some brandy, couple CD's & tapes, a cheap walkman and calculator, and some old course info from WPI. Feeling fairly ticked I continue on to Fitchburg. Meet up with my friend Tim who was dead tired from just getting off of work. He decides (this around 10pm) to goto bed and I go out to a party with his friend Jen. We go party, have a few drinks, hang out, then go back to her room with a couple people around 1230am. We're hanging and all a little buzzed when Tim flies into the room (about 1am) with this look like the rapture just came and he had to warn people. "JAY OH MY GOD YOU'RE HERE. CALL THE POLICE, CALL CAROL CALL YOUR ROOMATES CALL YOUR PARENTS EVERYONE THINKS YOUR DEAD!!!" "Not funny Tim" I say, "I'm not going to fall for it." Thinking its some sort of practical joke to have a drunk friend call the police and his family at 1am. To which he replies; "WOULD I LOOK THIS FREAKED OUT IF I WAS PLAYING A JOKE!?!??"

Reality and sobriety start to kick far too quick for the weekend. I call my roomates who are shocked to hear from me. Likewise several friends are contacted. Family is not home. Call the police, wait on hold for about 15 seconds; "Hello, Leominster State Police, this is Jason Macierowski... I'M NOT DEAD!!!" The dispatcher promptly informs me that there will be an officer up there to speak with me in about minutes. The officer arrives, (now about 130am) wakes up the RD of the whole 14 floor dorm, and we talk in his office.

Turns out, some coke addict stole my backpack, drank my whole bottle of brandy, got flying way high on coke and stumbled out onto Rte. 2 only to get hit MULTIPLE times. Apparently he left all my stuff on the side of the road and had no other ID on him. Police figure he was possibly trying to thumb a ride but who knows with the amount of coke and alcohol in his system. They find my stuff, think its me (there were no pictures of me in my bag) and call the WPI police. WPI police and a state trooper show up at my apt. and search my room for clues, listen to my answering machine messages and question my roomates at like 1130pm that night.

"Do you know where he is?"
"uh, Fitchburg I think"
"What does he look like"
(roomates give description)
"Well does he have any identifying marks?"
(this was pre-tattoos)
"Well he has a nosering."
"That won't help us. Do you have the number of where he was staying."
"No but his friend Aron might."

So the state police call my friend Aron at WPI who of course doesn't have Tim's number. Ironically, Aron was dating a common friend of ours Teri (Teri, Tim, Aron, and myself all went to high school together). Teri pointed out that Carol (another friend from High School in Springfield) would have the number. They call Carol. I had not talked to Carol in well over a year, by the way. Carol gives the number, Teri relays it to the state police. The state police then call my parents (they got the number from WPI police) and tell my mom (a registered nurse) "We have someone who was airlifted from Leominster State Hospital to UMass Medical in Worcester who we believe is your son. Can you please come identify him?" My mother asks what condition etc.. I am in to which the other medical person replies "How soon can you get here?" My mother translates this as polite medical speak for saying "hurry to catch his last breath." My mom's a little high strung anyways. This is not good.

After the police straighten things out and all my friends know the status of things, I go back to Jen's room to sit in catatonic position for a little while. About a half hour later, the phone rings. Half a minute of sobbing is all I hear. "Hi mom."

and thats, the rest of the story 8)