Morbid Curiosity’ a sign of the times

There is nothing in the world that ticks me off more than being backed up in heavy traffic on the interstate.

Dealing with construction and rush hour traffic is one thing. It is another when every time some poor soul gets into an accident, the entire world has to stop and see what happened.

Does the nation slow down to watch someone fix their stalled car on the side of the road with its emergency lights on? Do any Good Samaritans out there get out and help? (I don’t, but we’re not talking about me right now!!!) I believe nine out of ten times the answer is no.

That was my thinking Tuesday afternoon, Sept. 10, at 5:30 p.m., as I made my way down Interstate 635 headed towards Mesquite. Approaching the Lake June Road underpass, I noticed a line of cars and trucks piled up in all four lanes.

No doubt someone down the road was in an accident. If only I had stayed at The Suburban Tribune, the newspaper I work for in Balch Springs, about ten minutes longer, I would have heard the dispatchers on their police scanner say a “bad accident” had occurred off Military Parkway and 635 and the police were on route.

Had I known that I wouldn’t have gotten so irritable at the thought of having to prod along at a snail’s pace for 15 minutes.

I felt I had every reason to be mad because from Lake June Road, there was nothing to see. My assumption was that a car or truck had stalled on the road. But then as I got closer to the scene, I noticed a group of people standing around talking. My consensus was this was a massive pileup, and people were waiting for tow trucks to arrive.

Within moments, four Mesquite police cars had converged upon the area. As I finally came up to the trouble-spot causing the problem, I saw no wrecked cars. Other than the three paramedics speaking with a citizen and an ambulance, no one was injured. Until I came across a sight seen only by fire and police departments and doctors. We see it every day in pictures displayed in magazines, on the news, movies and television shows but I have never seen it up close.

It was a body covered with a white blanket. A hand was sticking out from under it and a pool of blood had formed. Obviously, there was nothing anyone could do.

I was so caught off guard by the grim scene that the journalist in me did not stop, pull over, and start asking questions on what happened to do a last-minute story for the paper. The Mesquite News reported two days later the individual was killed when he lost control of his motorcycle while speeding.

The image only phased me that night, as I wasn’t in the mood to watch any violent movies of people dying. I wonder how many of those onlookers who saw the same thing I did felt the same way.

Death is an everyday occurrence. So why are people still entranced by it whenever there is a grisly accident? It is because society is intrigued by scenes of death and destruction.

We don’t just see it on the news but through Hollywood, we view death as entertainment. Of all the films released every year, how many of them DON’T have a body count? We pay four to seven dollars to see people get sucked up by tornadoes and aliens incinerate cities. People die every week on “ER” and “NYPD Blue” and they are in the top ten Nielsen ratings.

Every year on Nov. 22, people go to Dealey Plaza to visit the site where JFK was assassinated. I have even heard about celebrity death tours on tabloid shows like “A Current Affair” and “Hard Copy.” For ten dollars, you can take a ride in a hearse as the tour guide points out various places where movie stars breathed their last.

A couple weeks ago, a coworker told me on the day after two employees he knew were murdered in a robbery two years ago, he went to the store to see what was going on. Why? He said he went out of “morbid curiosity.”

I don’t know the answer on why death fascinates people.

Seeing a dead body on the road does nothing for me except leave a sick, twisted knot in my stomach that lasts a short while. Perhaps it is just a warning to say this is what happens when you go racing down the highway.

I do know this. Because I had to cover a meeting for the newspaper an hour and a half later on Sept. 10th, I ended up passing by the accident again on my way home. The police were still there and only two lanes were open.

Had I had a map on hand, I would have taken a different route home, as I did not want to contend with the traffic again. I didn’t pass by the accident twice because I needed to satisfy my “morbid curiosity.”

©9/25/96