SEARCHING FOR ANSWERS IN MAUI

In a world where timing is everything you have to be aware of the opportunities that present themselves. The kind of stuff that makes you wonder if things happen for a reason.

 I first met Peter while hanging out at my friend’s house in Lahaina. Our mutual friend Josh and I had been working together at a beach resort as pool boys. It was a stepping-stone kind of job that wasn’t taken very seriously. It became apparent early on that the majority of hires didn’t stick around long. The only employees that really considered the job to be a career were those in upper-management.
 
It wasn’t long before Josh and I began to build a friendship outside of work. I guess the fact that we both had bigger dreams beyond being pool boys separated us from the rest of the pack. Josh told me about his journey to Maui and how he didn’t have a car when he first moved to Maui. As the conversation went on, we realized that we were both living in the same area, only a few houses away from each other. One day after work, Josh invited me over to his house. I had been pressing Josh for some time about getting together to start our own business, but I just couldn’t get him to break. He wanted to see facts and figures that I didn’t have. I was just the "idea guy". I had thought my enthusiasm and ambition alone would sell him, but I was wrong. 
 
Several days later, I was once again invited to Josh’s house to meet up with him and a few of his friends. When I walked into the house I was introduced to a man named Red in the living room and then Peter. When Peter introduced himself I didn’t hear his name. I was thinking to myself that there was no way I was hanging out with this guy. He would surely get all the girls. I had the urge to leave right then, but something happened that stopped me. Peter stood up as we were about to leave and limped over to the door. It was as if he was dragging an invisible kid on his leg, but he did so with grace. It was then that I knew there was more to this guy than just his good looks. I decided to stick around and find out what it was.
 
We left the house and headed out for lunch. Peter and I got to talking and we seemed to hit it off. He mentioned he had some ideas for a start-up business and suggested we get together at a later date to discuss them. We exchanged numbers as many people do in casual social situations, but I didn’t really think much of it.
 
On the way back to Josh’s house, we stopped to drop off Peter. Pretending that I hadn’t noticed Peter’s limp, I asked Josh what Peter’s deal was hoping he would bring it up. The first thing Josh said to me as soon as Peter got out of the car was, “Did you see his leg?” I played stupid. Josh explained that Peter had been in a motorcycle accident and had almost lost his life. That was the only thing Josh said about it before changing the subject.
 
A few weeks went by, but Peter and I kept missing each other. We were both still interested in getting together to finish the discussion we had started that day during lunch. I didn’t really think much would come of it anyway. I had spent countless hours over the last few years sitting through business meetings only to find most people are full of shit and their ideas were hardly worth my time. I was not being any different with Peter than Josh had been with me regarding my business ideas. Much Like myself, Peter had the ambition and drive, but I wanted more from him the same way Josh wanted facts and figures from me. I realized I hadn’t given Peter a fair chance. I began to wonder more and more about his big idea. I needed to know. 

One particular morning I woke up thinking about how much I hate my job and that I wish they would just fire me because I was too proud to quit. The first thing I did, still in bed, was checking my voice mail. My second message was the human resources department calling to let me know I was let go from work. Was this fate? I'm not sure; all I knew was this was no time to complain after all this was what I wanted. I met with my friend T later that morning and explained to her that I had lost my job. I asked her to take me somewhere quiet that we could sit down and eat breakfast so I could gather my thoughts. She took me to the perfect place. On the way in she picked up a copy of the MauiTimes newspaper. Suddenly it hit me. I told her I wanted to be a journalist. She laughed and pointed to an email listed in the Times. I asked her who that was and why she was pointing to a random email. T told me that she knew the owner of the paper and that this was his email. She advised me to write a story and send it in. It sounded easy but I needed something special to write about. This felt like the opportunity I had been waiting for, so it'd better be good; or I knew I would find myself begging for my job back. 

Later that day I was sitting in a Starbucks, and my phone rang. It was Peter. This was the day he decided that he wanted to pitch me his business plan. He said he was waiting till the time felt right. He didn't know I had just lost my job. Josh didn't even know yet, and I worked with him. Well, all I knew was it felt right to me. I had nowhere to be, no job, no girl. My life sounded like a Springsteen song. What did I have to lose ? He met me there and we talked about this great idea he had something regarding painting cars. At that moment another one of my great ideas hit me. I went on to tell him about this writing opportunity I had and that although his idea was good I felt we should write about his accident. We knew at that moment we met for this reason. To share our stories Peter told me that he had been staying in a shack out in the jungle with no modern luxuries to clear his head. He invited me out to document his lifestyle first hand and write without any distractions. Needles to say I said yes.

On our way out to the jungle the roads went from the highway in town to cliff side dirt roads. The roads were still considered a two-way road, but lucky for us no one was coming from the other direction. Narrow roads with no guard rails with a few 100 foot drop-off to one side and boulders waiting to jar loose and kill you from above. You could see the wrecked cars they had pulled from the ocean stacked on the sides of the roads. We had to cross a river by truck to get to the house. Once we got to the house it looked like a construction site. The house was all ripped apart and the shed next to it was where Peter lived. I have to admit the view was amazing. The house was set back in a huge valley and looking out from the dilapitaded porch was just beautiful. The mountain out front looks exactly like a back end of an elephant which appears to be turning left. Peter had his friend Ray Ray along for the ride. She was beautiful; 'A perfect fit for Peter', I thought, but they appeared to be just friends. We talked a little more about the accident over a fire that night. He even gave me his personal journal to read so I could better understand his pain. I learned about his abusive father and the haunting pain of his childhood. Peter endured lots of physical and mental abuse before the crash. All situations that I believe prepaired him for his life to come. It amazed me how well Peter got around despite the pain he was in. He spent his time doing some construction around the place purely out of the kindness of his heart. The owner of the house was his friend and was letting him stay there as long as he needed. Building showers out of 10 gallon drums and soul searching. School tought us that everything must have an answer but Life teaches us quite the opposite. Sometimes you just need to take the time to find nothing. How could I ever complain about my pain again knowing what he does everyday like some kind of modern day warrior?  

"IN THE FACE OF OUR INEVITABLE MORTALITY WE CAN DO ONE OF TWO THINGS. WE CAN ATTEMPT TO AVOID THE THOUGHT AT ALL COSTS, CLINGING TO THE ILLUSION THAT WE HAVE ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD. OR WE CAN CONFRONT THIS REALITY, ACCEPT AND EVEN EMBRACE IT."

The following is how the crash went down, in Peters words. The story has been written once by Peter, and I take great pleasure in sharing it now again with you. So, did the events between our lives all happen for the opportunity to cross paths and share his story? I guess we will never know. I just thought it was important to share it. Please,keep in mind when you read this. Peter has never accepted any kind of financial aid for his injuries. Like any great warrior he always walks proud and righteous.

The crash 04 22 2004

The summer of 2004 was when I got my bike. We used to
do 90mph or faster down back roads. Passing cars, just being nuts. Well, I always pushed the limit sometimes more than I should. But I loved the rush and feeling so
close to just throwing everything away. I wasn't afraid of death, I welcomed it. I should have not been on a bike. My voice mail on my phone at the time was:" Hi you have reached Peter. I'm probably ripping a wheel on the highway passing you right now. Or I am in a ditch on the side of the road bleeding out and can't reach my phone. On April 22nd, 2004, I didn't care much for anything, especially myself. I pushed everything to the limits; didn't listen when people told me to just chill. “Take it easy.” was not something I wanted to hear. That night I was being myself doing stupid things. All night my friends kept telling me to “chill out” but, for some reason, that made me want to do it more. I was on my way to go meet up with my friend Justin. His bike had broken down. I tried to give him some advice but he didn’t want to hear it. I don’t remember what he said to me that night, but it got under my skin. I was angry and I left.That night at 11pm I was with some friends and we all stopped at a gas station for gas.When we where done we pulled out and my friend at the time Jesse pulled out with me, and Dustin was right behind us. The other guys stayed behind because this guy Mike had dropped his glasses and they waited up for him. Jesse and I were competitive with each other and started racing. I raced my motorcycle through the corners pushing everything I had, before reaching a bridge . It was a long strait way and I wanted to pass Jessie, so I did. It was a cold night and when I passed Jessie I was going 110mph over the bridge. I wasn't ready for the corner and I didn’t want to cut off Jesse who was on my left behind me. The corner was coming up on me fast. When I went into the turn I braked, but this made my bike stand up,  steering me further into the corner. I panicked and my rear tire slid out from underneath me and slapped me against the guard rail. My right leg, from my toes to my hip, were completely shattered. After colliding with the rail-guard,the bike was pushing me into the rail. When it finally caught my bike it flung me into the air. When I landed, my helmet ripped off and I instantly broke my nose. When my body smashed into the road, my elbow jammed into my chest causing me to bruise my heart and my left hand to shatter before nearly ripping off. I slid across the asphalt flipping, turning, spinning, causing my left leg to break and lose a large amount of flesh behind my knee. When I finally came to a stop, I was losing blood fast and I was dying. I was ready to die. There were seven other guys there that night. They were behind me. Dustin and Jesse were the only ones right behind me. The other guys didn't know what had happened but as they got closer They knew something was wrong. When Dustin saw me lying there, he said I went to push myself up, then passed out. Dustin ran down the road and tried to get the on coming cars to slow down. They didn't know I was laying in the middle of the road. That night I lost 88% of my blood, right there on the road. But I lost more than just my blood, I lost myself. I left something there that night I'll never get back. I was taken to the Hospital . They looked at me and sent me in a Med-Flight to Another Hospital that could better deal with my severe injuries. My friends told me when they saw me being loaded in the helicopter I was covered in ice. I was in an induced coma for 2 weeks and in ICU for 2 weeks. Undergoing surgeries. No one was allowed to see me for 2 weeks. During my time in a coma I had the most bizzare dreams some of me dying. Others of me falling from space. It was like I was stuck in an acid trip for 2 weeks. I can't even explain. When I woke I was scared and confused. My legs where covered up and I couldnt move them. I went through a bunch of tests to see if I had brain damage or loss of memory. When I figured out why I was there the doctors came in and said that it would be easier if they took my right leg. He said that I'd be walking sooner and I'd be out of there faster. I started to cry after hearing this. But I told him I wanted to keep it. He said:" Peter you will never walk again."That's when I asked for a new doctor. And I got one. My legs where shattered, they couldn't put a cast on them because they where so mangled, and bleeding all the time. I was bed-ridden in BWH for four months. I couldn't move at all because my legs and my arms where so messed up. Both of my hands were in a cast. My mother was there, so was my sister. Everyday there was someone new coming to see me. It was seeing people that loved me the most, which kind of opens one' eyes to how much people really care. I never had that. They would stay and just sit with me for hours like they where watching over me. But the hardest was when there was no one there and I spent nights alone. I was so messed up on the IV morphine drip. I would wake up, freaking out and wondering what happened and how I got there. Nurses would come in and tell me to calm down and hold me from moving so I didn’t hurt myself. I’d cry myself back to sleep. I wanted to be tough and show everyone that I was okay, but I wasn’t. There were many nights I wished I could have taken my own life. If it wasn't for my friends I would have never made it through the hospital. I want to thank everyone who was there. I have overcome some of my biggest obstacles to reach my goals. Even now, I push and I push till I can't push anymore. If you know me, then you know that if someone says “Peter you can't do that”, I’ll say “You're right. I can do it better.” (lol JP) What we do does not define who we are. What defines who we are is how we rise after we've fallen. Thank you for taking the time and reading this. "YOU NEVER KNOW HOW STRONG YOU ARE TILL BEING STRONG IS THE ONLY CHOICE YOU HAVE" 
 
Peter J Chabot co writer
Anthony Paco Mendez Lead writer