Tweet
Accident Kills 1 But It Was Deja Vu For Other Drivers
October 03, 1989|By Tom Hundley, Chicago Tribune.
DETROIT — Bottom line: It was a car accident that resulted in a single fatality.
Usually such events don`t rate even a paragraph in big city newspapers, especially when they occur more than 285 miles away and the victim is far from a celebrity.
But for more than a week, the accident that killed Leslie Ann Pluhar, a 31-year-old waitress, was front page news in Detroit`s two dailies. In much the way that little Jessica McClure became a household word two years ago when she tumbled into an abandoned well in Midland, Tex., and was rescued 58 hours later, the Pluhar story found its mark deep in Michigan`s collective psyche.
Pluhar died in the most spectacularly frightening and awesome manner that any Michigander could imagine. Her car went out of control and swerved off the Mackinac Bridge, free-falling 170 feet into the chilly waters below.
The 3,800-foot suspension bridge, which links Michigan`s Upper Peninsula to the lower mainland, was considered an engineering marvel when it opened 32 years ago. The graceful arc of steel and wire across the Straits of Mackinac is undoubtedly the state`s most famous piece of architecture.
``Mighty Mac,`` as it is known by many, inspires affection and fear. Sweaty palms are one of the more visceral responses the bridge evokes from approaching motorists.
In fact, the Mackinac Bridge Authority maintains a ``Timid Motorists``
program in which bridge employees will get behind the wheel and drive panic-stricken motorists across the span. Last year, some 400 motorists availed themselves of this service.
But in 64 million crossings over the last 32 years, no one had ever driven off the bridge. Not until Leslie Ann Pluhar did it 11 days ago as twilight fell on the gusty, rainy Friday evening of Sept. 22.
At first, nobody was sure who the victim was or even how many people might have been in the car. Witnesses reported seeing a small blue car swerve out of control into oncoming traffic, veer back again and slam head on into the curb railing. The car then skidded along an outer railing for about 40 feet before striking a vertical suspension cable and flipping over the side.
The morbid drama began to gather momentum that weekend when authorities were unable to find the car in the deep waters of the Straits of Mackinac, and so could not confirm the identity of the victim.
What tragic story would the dark waters yield? There was no shortage of theories in the Michigan press. By the beginning of last week, the gruesome calculus of elimination began to point toward Pluhar. Her friends and family had suspected the worst from the beginning.
She owned a blue Yugo, a small imported car, and had left Detroit Friday to meet her boyfriend that evening in St. Ignace, the tiny community at the bridge`s north terminus. She never arrived.
Four days after the mishap, divers using sonar located the car perched on a ledge about 150 feet below the surface. But high winds and bad weather would make it impossible to recover the wreck for another four days.
Meanwhile, a crowd of reporters and curiosity seekers began to gather at the rescue site. Pluhar`s family also made the sad pilgrimage north where they were greeted at every turn by microphones, cameras, lights and notebooks.
On Saturday evening, a team of 12 divers was finally able to bring up the wreck after more than 10 hours of risky maneuvers in the murky waters. Pluhar`s family looked on from a small boat.
Hundreds had gathered at the municipal marina in Mackinaw City to witness the grisly moment.
The blue Yugo was so badly crumpled by the impact that police had difficulty removing the woman`s body. It was not until later that night that her family was able to positively identify the body.
Life is gradually returning to normal at St. Ignace and Mackinaw City, the two towns that anchor the bridge, but the story is not yet finished.
On Monday, two days after Pluhar`s body had been recovered, the Detroit News ran a detailed story on the underwater rescue operation. The Free Press ran two front-page stories on the incident, including one in which experts analyzed people`s phobias about the bridge.
A Free Press columnist also offered his thoughts on the media circus attendant to such tragedies, and asked the forgiveness of families such as the Pluhars who must endure our communal curiosity in the event of spectacularly violent death.
October 03, 1989|By Tom Hundley, Chicago Tribune.
DETROIT — Bottom line: It was a car accident that resulted in a single fatality.
Usually such events don`t rate even a paragraph in big city newspapers, especially when they occur more than 285 miles away and the victim is far from a celebrity.
But for more than a week, the accident that killed Leslie Ann Pluhar, a 31-year-old waitress, was front page news in Detroit`s two dailies. In much the way that little Jessica McClure became a household word two years ago when she tumbled into an abandoned well in Midland, Tex., and was rescued 58 hours later, the Pluhar story found its mark deep in Michigan`s collective psyche.
Pluhar died in the most spectacularly frightening and awesome manner that any Michigander could imagine. Her car went out of control and swerved off the Mackinac Bridge, free-falling 170 feet into the chilly waters below.
The 3,800-foot suspension bridge, which links Michigan`s Upper Peninsula to the lower mainland, was considered an engineering marvel when it opened 32 years ago. The graceful arc of steel and wire across the Straits of Mackinac is undoubtedly the state`s most famous piece of architecture.
``Mighty Mac,`` as it is known by many, inspires affection and fear. Sweaty palms are one of the more visceral responses the bridge evokes from approaching motorists.
In fact, the Mackinac Bridge Authority maintains a ``Timid Motorists``
program in which bridge employees will get behind the wheel and drive panic-stricken motorists across the span. Last year, some 400 motorists availed themselves of this service.
But in 64 million crossings over the last 32 years, no one had ever driven off the bridge. Not until Leslie Ann Pluhar did it 11 days ago as twilight fell on the gusty, rainy Friday evening of Sept. 22.
At first, nobody was sure who the victim was or even how many people might have been in the car. Witnesses reported seeing a small blue car swerve out of control into oncoming traffic, veer back again and slam head on into the curb railing. The car then skidded along an outer railing for about 40 feet before striking a vertical suspension cable and flipping over the side.
The morbid drama began to gather momentum that weekend when authorities were unable to find the car in the deep waters of the Straits of Mackinac, and so could not confirm the identity of the victim.
What tragic story would the dark waters yield? There was no shortage of theories in the Michigan press. By the beginning of last week, the gruesome calculus of elimination began to point toward Pluhar. Her friends and family had suspected the worst from the beginning.
She owned a blue Yugo, a small imported car, and had left Detroit Friday to meet her boyfriend that evening in St. Ignace, the tiny community at the bridge`s north terminus. She never arrived.
Four days after the mishap, divers using sonar located the car perched on a ledge about 150 feet below the surface. But high winds and bad weather would make it impossible to recover the wreck for another four days.
Meanwhile, a crowd of reporters and curiosity seekers began to gather at the rescue site. Pluhar`s family also made the sad pilgrimage north where they were greeted at every turn by microphones, cameras, lights and notebooks.
On Saturday evening, a team of 12 divers was finally able to bring up the wreck after more than 10 hours of risky maneuvers in the murky waters. Pluhar`s family looked on from a small boat.
Hundreds had gathered at the municipal marina in Mackinaw City to witness the grisly moment.
The blue Yugo was so badly crumpled by the impact that police had difficulty removing the woman`s body. It was not until later that night that her family was able to positively identify the body.
Life is gradually returning to normal at St. Ignace and Mackinaw City, the two towns that anchor the bridge, but the story is not yet finished.
On Monday, two days after Pluhar`s body had been recovered, the Detroit News ran a detailed story on the underwater rescue operation. The Free Press ran two front-page stories on the incident, including one in which experts analyzed people`s phobias about the bridge.
A Free Press columnist also offered his thoughts on the media circus attendant to such tragedies, and asked the forgiveness of families such as the Pluhars who must endure our communal curiosity in the event of spectacularly violent death.
Comment