“Thwack,” I’ve discovered is the sound of a bus running over a pedestrian (in a crosswalk, but that doesn’t change the pitch, it’s just notable). I’ve always imagined it to be more of a “thunk” or “thud” sound, but it’s definitely “thwack” for sure. I heard it myself.
Maybe it was that huge steel bike rack on the front of the bus that raises the pitch of the impact. Maybe if she had only hit the bumper and the sheet metal of the front of the bus it would have been more thud-like. Of course the windshield, headlamps, and wipers would have brought the pitch up a bit. So, thwack it is, I suppose. Maybe she hit face or head first. I was too far away to know.
I suppose it was fortunate for the pedestrian that at some last-moment the bus braked, else she’d certainly be dead now. And, boy, what a racket that is; a bus in emergency brake mode. Yikes! I’m sure this deadened the force of the, what, 34,000 pounds of bus on, say, 120 pounds (max) of lady (I checked the weight of the bus because I was curious about how much a city bus weighs – I’m only guessing the weight of the lady).
It’s like all EEEeeerrrrrgggghhh! – thwack! – tumble-tumble. Oh, yeah, even from fifty yards you can hear the tumbling of woman-on-asphalt in afternoon traffic. That really surprised me. It might even be possible that I felt the tumbling as vibration – maybe not. Maybe it was some sort of bystander shock, but it appeared to get spookily quiet afterwards.
It is interesting in retrospect, since the only sound that ceased was that cited above and maybe some conversations. I do remember saying in mid-sentence of a conversation with my walking companion, “whoa!” This was a reflexive exclamation; I didn’t choose to say, “whoa!” I’m glad it wasn’t something like, “fuck!” or “mama!” But, now I know what my brain and body chooses to say when a bus runs over a woman – it’s “whoa!” Now I know. I don’t remember what my friend said, it was one of those moments that processing gets focused on the drama.
Cavalier? I sound inconsiderate? No. It was horrible enough. I guess it I had seen it more directly it might have made a different impression. I weighed if I should run over and offer services (I’m a “safety guy” sort), but I noted that others were already making their way over. And, the lady was flapping her arm in disbelief. I’m sure she was saying something like, “I just got hit by a bus!” or “The clock is half red” if she was disoriented or something.
But I saw the event unfold peripherally, at about two-o’clock, right eye. Bus turning left, coming my direction (I’m on pedestrian bridge – so I don’t get hit by busses), bus stopping mid intersection, tumble-tumble. Oh, yeah, I processed the tumbling before I heard the thwack. Speed of light always beats speed of sound (don’t bet on sound in this race, kiddies, it’s a sucker bet). So, as I turned my head to see why someone was silly tumbling in front of a bus, I heard the thwack. Interesting.
Oh, I’m guessing the woman will be okay. I’m sure as I type she’s sore as hell (physically and disposition), but she’ll survive. Me? I wasn’t in any position to offer witness testimony for either the defendant or the prosecution. But, it was kind of awesome anyhow…in a "holy cow" kind of way.
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Follow-up from Massachusetts:
"This reminds me of an event couple decades ago that I witnessed, a car hitting a small dog. I was walking or driving a across the street heading toward a subway station, under a highway overpass, lots of movement and shadow and buses, cars, people, objects, and I saw this dog cross the street in front of a car, get hit, flip up in the air, rollover, the whole thing -- and it all seemed as though time slowed, every movement, the impact, the slip, the roll, I could replay, frame by frame. Strange. I can still see it now. The dog, by the way, got up and scampered off."
-DVE
