This is the story of a little boy named Sasha and his grandmother Tamara, whom have heroically recovered from being stuck down by a car no more than thirty feet from our very home. Their story and their courage have inspired us all.
Part One
Sitting here in the home office on a Friday afternoon, my nearly four year old son and I share a session of watching videos of fire trucks with sirens blaring loudly, on youtube. His now familiar reaction to the noise and spectacle; covering his head and cowering in fear; struck a new chord with me. You see, Sasha is obsessed with fire trucks, police cars, and ambulances. It’s all he can talk about some days. I like to think given all that has happened, it is a healthy obsession and the beginning of a new phase in his life as he continues on in his recovery from that fateful day of August 9th, 2010.
For really the first time, he candidly admits that the fire truck had come to fix his “owie”. He gazes at me with almost an adult like glimmer in his eyes and points to the four inch scar on his stomach, declaring proudly that the fire engine “fixed it”. Later that night he declares to his mother that the fire engine is coming to save all of his friends. It is a stark reminder to me of the need to write about this story, for the accident and its effect on this family is an important event that needs to be chronicled. On this one year anniversary of the accident; I have found it within myself to tell the story in the way that it should be told; with a lucid view of these past events and with a heart free of malice.