It was Thursday, September 28, 1993 and I had left very early to the passenger terminal in the city of Maracay. I had to travel to Caracas, a trip that takes about two hours on the Autopista Regional del Centro.
A bus had arrived, and the few people waiting at that time began to board. It was very early, around six in the morning.
I was going to a work meeting and was in a bit of a hurry. As I used to do every time I traveled by bus, I looked at the condition of the front tires before boarding the bus .
My father, who was a bus driver for many years, gave me some advice, that I always took and still take into account.
"Daughter, when you go to ride a bus, check the condition of the front tires. If they are smooth, don't ride. If the rear tires are a little slick, it's not so important".
When I studied at the university, I used to travel almost every weekend from Maracay to Caracas and vice versa, and looking at the tires of the buses became a habit.
For this reason, that morning, even though I had to arrive on time, I didn't board the bus, because it had the smooth front tires.
I sat on the benches on the platform and had to wait for the bus to fill up, and once it left, another one arrived, this time with the front tires in good condition. I got on confidently and sat by the window, I like to watch the scenery, and in the fourth row, another recommendation from my father.
The trip started out on the highway. I had to be in Caracas before ten in the morning, and we were leaving after 7 a.m.
The freeway was flowing because of the time, and the driver was driving at a prudent speed, not too fast or too slow. I calmed down and thought, I'll be on time for the meeting.
The valley on both sides of the highway was planted with sugar cane, and the hills were very green because of the rainy season, so I was enjoying the trip.
But about halfway down the path, there was a queue of vehicles, and they started to divert the traffic to the alternate road, the old highway.
"What happened?" I wondered, and the passengers were asking themselves the same question. There were police and soldiers organizing the traffic. In the distance, there was black smoke.
The driver asked what was going on.
"There had been an accident near the gas pump. The gas pipeline that runs along the highway exploded. There is no passage to Caracas", a guard answered.
I was shocked, but did not yet know the magnitude of the tragedy.
When I arrived in Caracas, the information was already on the news. A terrible accident that affected the people who at that time were driving along that sector of the highway, with the loss of human lives.
That made me think that maybe I could have been there at the place of the tragedy if I had taken that bus that I let go or been near that place. I could not know for sure, but it was possible. That impressed me. An unforeseen event had occurred, a terrible accident that changed the lives of many people.
That day I arrived at the meeting a little late, which was of course justifiable, and immediately called my parents who lived in Caracas, so they would not worry because they knew I was coming at that time.
That night I slept at my parents' house and I couldn't stop thinking about what happened. I kept imagining over and over again what would have happened if I had gotten on that bus. I finally calmed down and thanked my father for his advice and God for not being in that place, at that time.
Thank you for reading my story in Creative Nonfiction Prompt #38.
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The image of the presentation was edited in Canva with a free image from pixabay
The english translation was made in www.deepl.com