A ride to change your life

I'm writing about this ride weeks after it happened because I was not capable of writing (or even talking, really) about it until a few days after. Then I wanted to wait until I knew the details before I said anything that wasn't true. But now I know the facts (or what facts were reported, at least) and can give you the story.

It's Thursday, Oct. 25, and it finally rained in Virginia. We had been dry since August, so we were all relieved. Unfortunately, it seemed people forgot how to drive in the rain. There were accidents everywhere. Traffic was slow getting to work in the morning and getting home at night. But at least it was rain.

I was heading home. My work-week was just about over and I was looking forward to the weekend. My ride that evening was a red pick-up truck, relatively new. I was in the backseat and another man got in the front.
The driver asked us how we were doing, both our responses were similar: "Love the rain, hate standing in it." He laughed, threw out some joke, we laughed and we drove off.

(It's amazing, I'm hesitating right now because, even after a few weeks have passed, my hands are trembling thinking about this.)

The ride made me a little nervous from the start. I think I caught the driver nodding off in the beginning and I would glance at him from time to time and watch him try to keep himself awake — shifting positions, rubbing his eyes, finishing off his water bottle.
Then there were the close calls.
Once we swerved onto the shoulder of the HOV lane because traffic suddenly stopped and he wanted to avoid running into the back of the Honda Civic in front of us (yes, even weeks later, I remember what we almost hit). And twice we almost got side-swiped by cars trying to move into our lane without seeing us (how one can miss a big red truck in your side mirror, I'll never know). It wasn't anything a good horn-honking couldn't fix.
Usually when we get off the HOV, I feel home-free as it's only about ten more miles until our exit and that goes by quickly when there's no traffic. But, because the HOV merging back onto Interstate 95 can cause major traffic jams on a clear day, it was expected to be bad that day what with all the rain.
We merged onto I-95 just fine and were able to get into the right lane pretty easily, but it was all crawling at a snail's pace after that.
We hadn't been off the HOV for ten minutes, nor had gone a mile, before the driver got a phone call. There was shrieking on the other end, I couldn't make out what was being said. But I remember what happened next.
"WHAT?!" the driver shouted and immediately pulled over to the right shoulder of the highway. No, he wasn't pulling over to stop. He was pulling over so he could floor it and bypass the halted traffic. We were flying down the shoulder at what had to be at least 90 miles per hour with dirt and gravel under the right tires (above which I was sitting) and those weird bump things that tell you you're running off the road under the left tires.
Only a few seconds after we got off the road, I heard a pop and knew a tire was gone. Not until after everything, I saw it was the back right tire.
There were several times where we almost slid off the shoulder and into the ditch or pack of trees that edge the highway. Once he had to stop and switch gears so the other three tires could compensate for the one lost. All the while, he's on the phone trying to call people or trying to call back the original caller. The other passenger and I are clinging to what we can, not knowing what was going on.
After a few minutes, he tells us: "My twins just drowned."
Holy crap.
At this point, I understand why he reacted the way he did. Granted, some people would say he shouldn't put two (possibly three if you count him) lives in danger in the hopes of saving two. But, what parent can say they wouldn't do the same thing?
I just hold on and pray we make it to wherever we're going safely. I know at that point he wouldn't want to go through the steps to drop us off at the commuter lot; he just wants to get home. So my thoughts turn to: What should I do if/when we get off the highway?
I'm still amazed that we made it to the exit. We were going on and off on- and off-ramps, on and off gravel, dirt, grass and whatever else is on that shoulder. No cops followed after us and only one person honked. We lost a tire, we slid several times, but we made it to the exit.
We got off the highway and instead of going in the direction to the commuter lot, the driver went onto the main road (like I expected).
"I can't drop you off, I'm sorry," he said and started driving on the shoulder of the road. What am I supposed to say? I'm sorry, but you have to follow slug etiquette and drop us off where you said you would? Honestly, I didn't want to go to his house because 1) of course, I would have to get home from there and 2) I didn't want to be at his house with something like that going on. I don't know this family and would feel terrified/guilty for being witness to such a personal tragedy.
Luckily, there is a stoplight as soon as you get off the highway and it was red in the direction we were headed with traffic going across the other way, so the driver couldn't keep going unless he wanted his car totaled and us dead, so he started slowing down. The other passenger took this opportunity to say, "Hey, just drop us off here and we can walk the rest of the way." The driver quickly unlocked the doors and we bailed. I almost left my umbrella lying on the floor, but I reached in and grabbed it before the light turned green and he shot off.
We watched as he sped away, leaving behind the shredded remains of his back right tire. All that was left was rim.
The other rider and I stood in the dark and the rain for a few seconds to catch our breath and get a grip on what just happened. I was shaking severely (I do that when I'm anxious or incredibly scared) and the other guy's mouth was gaping.
All that was said was
Him: Were you saying your prayers?
Me: I don't want to say those prayers again for a long while.
We opened our umbrellas and walked across seven lanes of traffic to get to the lot.

A few weeks after and I can tell you there was a bathtub accident and this man's 15-month-old twin boys drowned. I will not speculate as to what happened to lead up to the accident, I'm just gonna stick to the facts. If you want more information, here is the story that ran in the Free Lance Star.