OK, blame this thread on insomnia. I'll go first:
Summer 1981...a few months before I got married...Washington Beltway (I-495).
Drizzly Saturday morning, about 10:00, I'm driving my Mom (in her car) to an event in northern Virginia.
I'm doing 60-65 MPH or so in the third lane from the right at a curving section of the Beltway a few miles north of what was then the Cabin John (now the American Legion) Bridge where I-270 South merges with I-495.
The car in the lane to the right suddenly begins sliding, apparently a hydroplane, directly in front of me. I cut the wheel sharply to avoid a collision...and after that, it's in God's hands.
Our car swings wildly, doing a 360 and a half as I press the brake and fight the wheel...but no chance to regain control.
We see an embankment with trees in the median coming up on the left side of the highway. There's a guardrail, but it was unimaginable to me that it could stop us. My Mom sees it too and quietly says: Oh no. I'll never forget those words of hers.
Funny how time plays tricks on your brain at such moments. Everything is happening so fast...yet it also seems somehow like slow-motion.
We slam into the guardrail flat...you couldn't have parallel-parked with more precision...the force of the impact almost perfectly distributed along the length of the car...and come to a dead stop, the car on the left shoulder of the freeway, turned around, facing incoming traffic.
I was shocked that we were in one piece...not a scratch...and the car apparently driveable. So I took my chances that the vehicle would go and gunned it back across four lanes to the other side of the highway where we were at least facing the right direction. My knees were shaking.
The other car was over there too, seemingly not super damaged and nobody hurt. My Mom was a mess. She kept saying, you're going to be married...and you almost died. No argument there.
The other driver's insurance company called me days later, recorded my statement...and ended up paying for the damages to my Mom's car, which amounted mostly to scrapes and dents but was still a healthy piece of change.
Meanwhile, I was left to wonder how our car could slam with such mathematical precision so flatly into the guardrail when any other angle of impact would have severely damaged it or bounced us back into oncoming traffic or maybe even forced us through the rail into the trees...and also how in blue blazes there was an unlikely break for a few precious seconds in heavy Beltway traffic, which allowed us to 360-and-a-half across the highway without catastrophically colliding with any other vehicle.
Call it dumb luck, but I've always favored the explanation of angelic protection myself.