Police said a woman died in a head-on collision on a US highway right after updating her Facebook status and posting selfies.
The 32-year-old, Courtney Sanford, posted on her Facebook page at 8:33 on Thursday morning, saying, “The happy song makes me so HAPPY.” Police were called about the crash at 8:34 that same morning.
According to the officers, Ms. Sanford was driving alone when her car crossed the center line, crashed into a recycling truck, and caught fire. The collision caused the truck to be pushed off the road.
She was driving on Interstate 85 in North Carolina on her way to work. The police said there was no evidence that her speed, drug use, or alcohol was a factor in the crash.
The Facebook link wasn’t revealed until this past weekend, when her friends told the police that several of her online posts seemed to have been made around the same time as the accident.
Lt. Chris Weisner from the High Point Police Department said the crash was a real-life example of what happens when you text and drive, as reported by WGHP TV.
Lt. Weisner explained that Ms. Sanford had been taking selfies on the highway and updating her social media just before the crash.
He said, “In just a few seconds, a life was lost so she could tell her friends she was happy. It’s really not worth it.”
He added that, while it’s sad, it’s a serious reminder for everyone to stay focused while driving.
John Wallace Thompson, 73, was driving the truck involved in the crash and was not injured.
My Neighbor Kept Hanging out Her Panties Right in Front of My Son’s Window, So I Taught Her a Real Lesson
The underwear of my neighbor turned into the star of a suburban farce, stealing the show directly outside my son’s 8-year-old window. Jake’s innocent question about whether her thongs were slingshots made me realize that the “panty parade” needed to end and that it was time to teach her some prudence when doing the laundry.
Oh, suburbia: a place where everything seems perfect, the air filled with the scent of freshly cut grass, and life goes on without incident until someone changes everything. At that point, Lisa, our new neighbor, showed up. Everything had been rather quiet until wash day, when I saw something for the first time that had caught me off guard: a rainbow of her panties flapping outside Jake’s window like flags at a dubious parade.I nearly choked on my coffee one afternoon while folding Jake’s superhero underwear and happened to look out the window. And there they were, lacy and blazing pink and very much on show. Ever the inquisitive child, my son glanced over my shoulder and posed the dreaded query, “Mom, why is Mrs. Lisa wearing her underpants outside? And why are there strings on some of them? Are they for her hamster companion?I tried to explain between choked laughter and horrified astonishment. However, Jake’s imagination was running wild as he pondered whether Mrs. Lisa had aerodynamically engineered underpants and was indeed a superhero. He even expressed a desire to participate, proposing that his Captain America boxers be displayed next to her “crime-fighting gear.” Jake would get curious and Lisa’s laundry would flap in the breeze on a daily basis. But I realized it was time to terminate this farce when he offered to hang his own underpants next to hers. So, prepared to settle the dispute amicably, I marched over to her residence. Before I could say anything, Lisa answered the door and made it plain that she wasn’t going to break her laundry routine for anyone. She dismissed my worries with a laugh, advised me to “loosen up,” and even gave me style tips for my own clothes. Despite my frustration, I remained resolute and devised a cleverly trivial scheme. Using the brightest fabric I could find, I made the biggest, flashiest pair of granny panties ever that evening. When Lisa departed the following day, I hung my work of art directly in front of her window. When she came back, the sight of the enormous underwear with a flamingo print almost took her breath away. It was worth every stitch to watch her lose her cool trying to take down my practical joke. After a while, she gave in and agreed to shift her laundry somewhere less noticeable, all the while I silently celebrated my success. After that, Lisa’s laundry disappeared from our shared vision, and everything returned to normal. What about me? In the end, I had some flamingo-themed curtains that served as a constant reminder of the day I prevailed in the suburban laundry war.
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