Amanda McKeen — How My Life Was Saved in the Franconia Notch
It was a single car accident in northern New Hampshire, right around springtime when winter has a tendency to overstay its welcome. It happened on I-93 North, where the speed limit changes from 70mph to 45mph at the entrance of the Franconia Notch.
A winter storm had just rolled in. Roads, previously dry and bare, were now slick with just the slightest amount of ice. Visibility was low and winds were high. The stage had been set by Mother Nature to claim her next victim.
Although I was new to the area, I was raised in New England and knew better than to be out driving on a day like this.
My hands gripped the steering wheel, white knuckles hidden beneath my winter gloves. My heart was pounding so fast and so loud that I reached to turn down the radio volume and quickly realized the radio was already off.
What am I doing? I screamed at myself as I merged onto I-93 South.
I felt sick to my stomach from the war going on in my mind: Turn around, Amanda. Keep going, Amanda. Run, Amanda. Don’t abandon him, Amanda.
For the past two years I had been running, leaving belongings behind, leaving jobs behind, leaving people behind, leaving hope behind. A dark stranger had barged into my life and taken up residence uninvited. He was a parasite, thriving off my every resource, and draining me of my dwindling energy with his incessant demands and unpredictable moods.
New Hampshire was merely the next stop in what seemed like an endless flight through hell. This was the fourth state, and the eighth move I’d made in two years. There were no more thoughts of life improving. In fact, I anticipated it ending soon, probably by suicide. Sure, I had fantasized plenty about his death, but I could never imagine myself a murderer. It would have to be fate that would take him.
I was ashamed of my situation and so I told no one. My life became riddled with isolation and fear. I was gradually losing my ability to function, and without a proper support system, all hope was lost. My healthy habits were replaced with smoking and oversleeping, a sign that I had truly lost myself. Joy and peace were distant memories of the past. The woman in the mirror staring back at me was a stranger with a deep sadness in her eyes.
Now all was about to dramatically change on this unassuming winter day.
As I carefully made my way down the cold, icy corridor, inching closer to the Notch, my body was rigid from the efforts it took to ignore my screaming inner voice.
Turn around! Leave him behind! This is your chance!
Right then, as if the universe heard my cries for help, it gave me a much-needed nudge: a phone call from a Restricted number.
“Hello, am I speaking with Amanda McKeen?” said a very commanding female voice.
“Yes, this is her.” I shakily replied, afraid and confused by the sudden audible invasion.
“Ms. McKeen, this is Officer Newbury with the New Hampshire State Police. We’ve got a Mr. Drago in custody for violation of the restraining order you put in place. Do not come pick him up. You need to turn your car around right now and go home.”
“Ok, thank you.” Were the only words I managed to choke out before the call abruptly ended.
Shock set in as I pulled off at the next exit.
This was my first thought, revealing the perpetual shame and fear I had been emanating for so long.
No, Amanda, you’re not in trouble.
Then, a second thought burst onto the scene like a caged animal that finally found the fail point in the door and broke loose.
It has been five years since the day fate stepped in and gave me my life back.
All because he was driving too fast through the Notch and flipped his vehicle on icy roads. All because the NH State Police responded to the scene, checked his records and saw the restraining order. All because he called me to come pick him up, and the state police officer overheard him say my name.
I remember recognizing the power of what had happened that day as soon as the officer hung up. I realized the responsibility I now had to myself to become an excellent steward of the life that was given back to me.
It was time to rebuild my life the way I wanted it. It was time to connect with good people, to find joy and peace again, and to be open to new experiences.
I chose to stay in New Hampshire after this, just fifteen minutes from the Franconia Notch. In the last five years, I’ve spent countless hours hiking, climbing, biking, snowshoeing, and fishing in this place. I have connected with some amazing people who all have stories of their own that have touched me in some way.
The Franconia Notch has truly been a catalyst to my healing, and a beautiful symbol of my freedom.
For this reason, I will always love this place, for it has never stopped saving my life since that day.
