How to die in California...

48 hours ago....

Just read it all. Right now I'm pretty traumatized... and extremely angry. Angry at my Dad for not listening to me and and at Italian men in general for being all around bastards! I'll get back to that in a moment, but here's the title story: (if you need to, jump to THE GOOD PART... there are NO Cassieisms exaggerations.

STORY PREP. Today was the day designated for me to go visit my Dad's cousins Bob and Fran Pastorino, which I guess makes them my second cousins. You may have seen on CNN and MSNBC and such that the storm of the decade moved in over night and was blowing trees down all over the city and the Bay area. 70-100 mile an hour gusts and rain to boot. Power lines were falling from everywhere, trees were dropping, and cars were being pushed off the roads and into parked cars while the winds blew. Four semi trucks were overturned on the Bay Bridge! The conditions were not very condusive to driving across the mountains into the Napa Valley where they all live. Sitting on my bed waiting for my Dad and Nonni to be ready, all I can hear are sirens going off at various distances in the neighborhood. Point One: I told my Dad we should reschedule for Sunday and forget the drive. Well, he didn't want to wait... and he got mad at me for tying us all up. "Don't let down your cousins, they planned a big dinner." So we left. Is that not exactly what the authorities tell you NOT to do?

Heading over the Golden Gate Bridge (Highway 101) we hear on the radio that Highway 101 is closed North and South bound after the bridge due to construction materials were blown across the highway at some areas. Due to the overturned semis closing the other bridge and 101 being closed, there was only one other way to get into the Napa Valley: California 1. Maybe you've heard of this highway? It is the one that goes from Baja California all the way to Oregon following the coastline. Beautifully depicted in a Decemberists song, the coastline highway makes one think of a sunny day of driving with the top down watching the surf of the pacific ocean. I've seen Cal 1 on one of those days, but today was not it. It is incredibly windy with hairpin turns and cliffs that fall lead straight into the rocks where high tides and those gusts I mentioned were pushing sea water UP an incredible distance. Here we are, Dad driving too fast in his little soft-top BMW convertable, 93 year old Nonni in the front seat and me in the back clenching my teeth so hard in fear my face went numb. We hit about 3 "road closed" signs, but my Dad kept finding another way to get to the one he wanted. I was praying so hard I think everyone in Heaven heard my screaming thoughts. So we're driving on this highway following a few other cars (more stupid people!) and you couldn't really see the lines on the road because debri leaves were littered everywhere. Then we see this one "road closed" sign and it is the ONLY road that leads to the other ones that lead to the valley. My dad just drives right through the barrier, my Nonni and I both firmly voicing our objections but, like everything else today, he didn't listen.

THE GOOD PART. After about 5 minutes of relatively clear road, we come to the part of the road that was obviously the reason for the closing: low water crossing about 100ft across full of water. I may have been born in California, but I grew up a Texas girl so I KNOW you don't ever EVER attempt a waterlogged road (last March's Red Arroyo and the two PIKE boys who died in the river last year played in my mind here), especially in the teeny tiny car that we were in. My dad slowed a little bit so I though we were going to turn around, but then he plunged into it! I started screaming from the backseat "No, DON'T, NOOOO!" What an idiot! This is partially why I am so angry... he wouldn't listen to me. We were okay for about 10 feet, then the water went over the hood. Instantly, the water started coming in the cracks of the doors and filling up the floor boards. My Nonni just placed her feet up on the dashboard and I abandoned my heels to the floorboard and crouched on the backseat, trying to think of what to do next. As the water poured in, I looked to my left and saw that there was a creek that I guess was the cause of the flood, but it was not a creek anymore and there was white water against the trees which meant a strong current. I put my laptop and jacket onto the back headboard and thought only that the best thing to do would be to get out through the windows and push the car backwards while we still could reach the ground. The water was only up to above my knees outside the car. The car is a coup, so there was no way for me to jump out unless Nonni let me crawl over her and out the window. I then realized the danger of power windows. All my Dad was doing was swearing loudly while trying to start the car and yelling at me to sit down. He got the window down to check the water height. He wouldn't let me out and he sure wouldn't listen to my suggestion about pushing the car backwards. By this time the middle console was submerged, I couldn't see the emergency break, and water was 3 inches covering the backseat so I was soaked from waist down. Looking outside, the water was now to the windows which meant the creek was rising. The water was rising, the car wasn't starting, and my Dad wouldn't let me out!!! I felt terrified. I couldn't get out because my Dad wasn't letting me. I'm not sure if getting out of the car was even a smart move, but it was all I could think to do... the car could go under, but at least we'd be out of it! It was actually quite terrifying becuase I was really being held in a position of danger against my will by the only man in the world divinely required to protect me. I seriously considered breaking the back window or grabbing my Nonni and going out her window, as best I could get her. Just before I was about to do something (which I think would've been breaking Nonni's window and getting she and I out) God sent two Angels and a Chariot in the form of two Mexicans and and Toyota Tundra with a 10 foot nylon rope. They pulled just ahead of us and threw my Dad the rope, who wrapped it around the steering wheel. As they pulled us, water went in over the window on my Dad's side and I saw an inch or two of murky water wanting to get in on the closed window of the passenger side. Then it receded and we were on the other side of it and on the road up the hill a little bit. Dad opened the door and water poured out and I could see the emergency break again. Water was still pooled in the floorboard and I couldn't see my heels... thank goodness I don't buy expensive shoes. By God's divine hand, the two broken-English speaking Angels had jumper cables and miracle of miracles, the BMW actually started. I was fumbling for my purse to give them something or write down their names or something, but as soon as they pulled the cables off and closed the hood, Dad backed up and then drove off! He drove off and hardly thanked them! They said they were going to follow us, but my dad didn't hear it and wouldn't listen to me while I was screaming at him to wait for them. There is nothing scarier than being in a place where you have NO control... he wouldn't let me out, he wouldn't slow down, he wouldn't stop the car, I was just trapped. It was terrifying. I never thought my Dad would ever put me and his mother in that type of situation and not consider at all anything I say.

I was wet, shaking from cold and seething with anger. Nonni was surprisingly cool in all of this. She just sat there and said her "Hail Mary's:" Thank God only her legs got wet, the water didn't quite reach her seat. I think the only thing she said after all of that was "Oh me, my stockings will have to be washed." What a trooper. I, on the other hand, was furious that my Dad even attempted such a feat more furious at the fact that he was kind of smiling from the front seat as if he had anything to do with us getting out of that mess. God is gracious and ever so protective and I really loathed my father at that point. Yes, it was mistake. People make mistakes. If they hadn't been there, we could've lost the car. Or worse, since he sat there just trying to start the damn thing and wouldn't let me out, what if the water had gone over the windows? I guess one of those tools might actually be useful, but I know none of you would ever drive knowingly into that!

But this was a BIG mistake. He risked our lives and it was totally unnecessary! I told him not to! Why won't he listen to me? Why don't they ever LISTEN to me!? Reading this you may think I'm over-reacting but I don't think I am. I was really scared. Really, really scared. I didn't panic, panic would have been getting out no matter restraint. I was just trying to think fast and mine and Nonni's lives came to the forefront of the mind at the sight of the rising water. I'm not going to justify any of my actions or reasoning or anything. What the hell would anyone do in that?

God is amazing.

This story ends happily because my Nonni is asleep in her bed in the next room and I'm writing this all on my dry laptop at 2:00 am on January 5th. We met with Bob and Fran and Bob leant me sweat pants while they dried my skirt. I was half Sunday morning church, half Saturday night football when we ate our formal Italian dinner.

I finally got to my purse. My 3 lipsticks will recover, but other things I think will not. I lost my cell phone, iPod, headphones, and brand new digital Camera and a memory card... and trust in the protection of men. Since I now have no cell phone, I don't have a chance to TALK about this to anyone, which is probably why this post is so long. I need to talk but can't, I'm shaking as I type this. Sadly, the only numbers I really have memorized are my mom's and Josh's. Plus, it's like 2 for central time.