Staircase to Heaven

We were on our way home from a trip to the Catskills upstate New York. My Aunt Sylvie was also my godmother. She took me on all her vacations. I was five years old, so I thought this was great. I had a pink suit case that stayed packed perhaps my Auntie wanted to roll out on short notice.

On this trip Auntie took me to Peg Leg Bates Country Club in Kerhonkson, New York. It was the summer of 1986, and Bates was the first Black resort owner in Ulster County in the Catskill Mountains. The Catskills was famous as the Borscht Belt of Jewish resorts, hotels, and bungalow colonies.

Auntie and I spent a really nice time – a whole week at Peg Leg Bates. Besides the great food, we shopped at the shops in Kerhonkson. It was a nice town but really small. Not at all like New York City, but there was an ice cream parlor with the best homemade strawberry ice cream.

Auntie had a Black 1985 Pontiac Grand Am. She loved that car. It was time to head back to the city. We were on the first leg of our trip back home on US 209 –S. It was a Saturday and the road was quiet. There wasn’t a lot of traffic. The mountain road was narrow and ran along the river part of the time. Sometimes we drove through some small towns, and sometimes there were just mountains, trees, river and highway. We didn’t leave as early as planned, deciding to stay for lunch at the resort, and stopping for just one more ice cream cone.

Less than half way through the trip the weather turned wet and dark. It was like going through the twilight zone. One minute it was bright sunshine, but the further we travel the nastier the weather got. My Auntie told me to climb in the back seat and put on my seat belt. I had my travel blanket and pillow Auntie always kept in the car. I got very comfortable, and at some point fell asleep. I remember we were singing Caravan of Love" by Jasper Isley and half of Aretha Franklin’s "Freeway of Love" then nothing.

When I awoke, there were these two huge truck wheels on the trunk of the car. The front of the car had crashed into the side of the mountain. I was trapped in the backseat since the Grand Am was a two door. Aunt Sylvie was lying on the steering wheel with blood running down her face. I used the blanket to wipe her face, but I couldn’t wake her up. Next I knew there was this man opening the driver’s side door, and turning off the car. He got my Auntie out of the car, and then me.

It was raining so hard and it was dark I couldn’t see anything in front of me. When I looked back at the car, this big truck had almost landed on the roof. There was all this white liquid spilling on the highway. The man kept talking to me, but I wouldn’t answer because he was a stranger. I didn’t think he was a bad person because he covered my Auntie and placed an umbrella to keep her dry.

The man kept say, “Are you hurt? What’s your name? Is that your mommy?” I remembered thinking, “Stop talking to me strange man. Wake up my Auntie!” I fell across my aunt’s chest and kept trying to shake her awake.

I don’t know when the state trooper and ambulance arrived. They kept trying to make me move, but I wouldn't let go of my aunt – then everything went black......

I’m dreaming I thought....my Auntie was running up this staircase that reached into the sky. I was running behind her. The staircase just kept going around and around up into the sky. My aunt was running after a man she kept calling “daddy wait for me.” “Auntie wait for me. Wait for me! I called after her. The man stopped only once and told my aunt, “She can’t come. You have to take her back.” Then he was gone. My aunt was crying when she came down the stairs to me. She said that we had to go back. She took my hand and led me back down the stairs.

I woke in the hospital, and my mother and grandmother was there. My head hurt so badly. My mother had a cold ice pack on my head. My auntie was sleeping in the next bed. We stayed in the hospital another day before traveling back home.

Fast forward to the year 2000, and my Auntie and I were on yet another road trip. My aunt never married, and over the years we took our trips. We never spoke about the car accident, until we flew to Los Angeles, CA for the Rose Bowl Parade. We were having a moment over dinner, when I asked about the car accident. I don’t know why, but I started telling her of my dream an running after her up the never-ending staircase. To my surprise my aunt started crying. She said she also had a “dream” while she was unconscious. She said she was running after her father, my grandfather, who died about 20 years prior to the accident. She and her father had a close relationship, but he told her she had to “go back” for me because it wasn’t my time. She was on the same never-ending staircase into the dark sky. My aunt was supposed to go back for me; there was something she had to do.

The day of the accident, my aunt and I were inside the same “dream” experience. She was never specific about her assigned tasks. I never met my grandfather since he died before I was born. I never drank milk after that accident. A milk tanker truck ran us off the road into the side of the mountain. LA was our last trip, my Auntie died on Thanksgiving Day 2000.