Engineering Matters! (Or, Why We'll Be Shopping for a Volvo)

Thursday night late, two miles from home after a four-hour drive, and out steps a nine-point buck into the path of our 1995 Volvo wagon. (Dark, narrow state road, I drive it ten miles under the speed limit.)

My bride says:  'Watch out for that(WHAM!)'

The airbags worked, the seat belts worked, the brakes and steering systems remained intact, as did the battery cables. The desperate 'Are you OK?' question, and 'Let's get out of the car, this smells hot.  Grab the laptops, and let's go!'

The doors opened without a hitch, and we walked away with bruises only. The emergency flashers worked, and a good Samaritan found us and called 911. (It took 35 minutes for the deputies to arrive. A volunteer fireman drove up on the scene and directed traffic in the pitch black.)

So, a public word of thanks to the Volvo engineers and technicians we will never meet, who in the mid-1990's designed and assembled the car that kept us alive.  The people who made sure the airbags were properly installed come to the top of the list.

And, literally, we thank Heaven.  A few inches either way, and one of us may have had to plan a funeral.  No shoulder on the road, ditches on either side, bounded by thick forest.

When we encountered the buck, the car had just shy of 418,000 miles on it, original engine and tranny. The suspension didn't eat the tires. We kept the oil changed,  would need the brakes inspected at the next oil change and rotation. The paint job was faded, and we needed to order a new cruise control kit. 

It just ran. And saved our lives.