On Friday night, 29th January, I got clipped by a car wing mirror whilst in the middle of a zebra crossing. Today I want to relay what happened, and then reflect on the way our perspectives can influence how we process events.

Friday evenings since last March, I routinely dial into a group call with friends after work and we all chat whilst out walking together. The only thing that’s changed in that time is a shift from video to audio calls with the shortening days. This Friday I was 15 minutes into the walk at around 17:30. Because it’s so dark and the traffic can be prone to speeding on the road in question, I always use the crossing points that are well lit. This one is not far off a roundabout, so even if you’ve checked nothing’s coming, any car coming off the roundabout fast is going to reach the crossing very quickly.

I was just shy of half way across the road when I clocked the oncoming car. It had turned off the roundabout and should have been slowing down on seeing me, but instead it was still coming toward me at speed – in truth, all I really saw was the driver-side headlights accompanied by a disbelieving premonition of what was about to happen. Within the next second, the wing mirror hit my forearm as I turned and I stumbled but kept my feet. The friend on the phone got a fairly unhelpful rendition that approximated: ‘What the—[swearing] – a car just hit me!’

The next ten minutes followed along these lines:

First, I stared after the car in disbelief. It pulled over beyond the crossing. Then I recognised that I was still in the middle of the road – other cars were approaching and slowing – so I finished crossing.

The driver who’d hit me came hurrying after me to check I was okay, so I ended the phone call having assured the friend that I was clearly still walking/talking. The driver was very apologetic. In credit, I don’t recall them trying to make any excuses – they just wanted to check I was okay and say sorry. I noted they had on a black polo-shirt top with a red and blue logo and concluded they were a delivery driver as they were clearly torn between needing to rush off and wanting to be sure I was okay.

As they left, I noted the car had L plates. I couldn’t decide how badly injured my arm really was and wasn’t sure if it should be reported so I took down the registration number on my phone. I was trying to work out if a trip to A&E to check for a break should be on the cards and how I was going to get myself there if so. I thought I was probably only going to report it if it ended up a severe injury when the shock passed.

The car behind had also stopped as witnesses, and that driver came after me because they wanted to report it to the police. They’d noted the L plates and that they thought the driver was alone, and they felt the driver had taken too long to stop the car. They were also concerned about me. They asked for my name and number. They said they were going to report it regardless. I agreed to give my information because I was a little worried how certain they seemed to be about the driver having ill-intent – I felt I probably needed to report something after all, to be balanced. They were very considerate and protective to me though, urging me to stay put whilst they crossed the road to get a phone to take my details.

By 17:40, I had walked on and was back on the phone.

Excluding perspectives, my main learning points so far are:

  • It’s a legal requirement for all accidents on a zebra crossing to be reported (per the police, who called me an hour later).
  • Having koolpaks in the house is useful and, for someone on their own who dinged up their right arm, Amazon delivery before 7pm next day is very helpful.

At this point, I’m pretty curious about the assumptions that you might be making having read the information above. I’ve tried, for the most part, for it to be a statement of facts and observations, but it’s fundamentally still my version of events and perceptions of how people were behaving and why. I found it interesting to examine my own perspective, too.

First: did I do anything wrong? I have to acknowledge I was on the phone and, having checked there was nothing coming when I stepped into the road, I was more focused on getting to the other side than whether any cars were suddenly coming off the roundabout that I needed to run from. I was also in a dark green coat in the dark, so I could arguably have made myself easier to see, but this was also why I was using the well lit crossing where it was my right of way.

Perhaps because of the visibility and the short distance to the roundabout – I’m always paranoid as a driver coming off that roundabout and knowing the crossing is there – I felt sympathy for the driver. When the witnesses made a comment about how long it took them to stop, my perspective was that the first reaction had probably been shock at hitting a person, so then stopping may have taken another moment. I’d also already identified the delivery driver role, so I’d paired this with an impression of someone on low pay, needing to rush around to do their job.

I deliberately haven’t mentioned age, ethnicity or gender, so I wonder where you ended up. As it happened, it was an older, BAME man with strongly accented English. I suspect my sympathy would have reduced for a younger driver, or a more expensive looking car. I wonder if it might have increased in any circumstances.

For the witness, it was an older white man and his wife who’d been out dropping off their grandson. I wonder how much their instinctive response to whether to report the driver was influenced by having been with their grandson not long beforehand – the roundabout separates stretches of road that each have schools, so the crossing is frequently used by children when schools are open. They seemed very well meaning, and I envy their certainty over right and wrong in the situation

As I write this, it’s in the hands of the police. I need to trust that they’ll take a fair and proportionate response based on the combination of my words and those of the witnesses. I wish that sat more comfortably with me, but I’ve read too widely in the past year not to worry a little that a very sore arm for me may mean something more long lasting for that driver.

I am also reflecting that by trying to consider the different perspectives involved, it’s helped me feel less like a victim. It was important to me not to dwell on the combination of headlights and fear, but on that fact it was fine and what comes next.

I hope sharing this might have been useful as a thought exercise. It’s likely you will have had a different perspective to me, and I’d be interested to hear if you want to share your whats and whys.

As always, thank you for reading.