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“A little past 4 on a January morning in 2005, I dragged myself out of a casino north of Seattle after twelve straight hours on a slot machine, pushing the play button as fast as I could until I had lost all my money. I got into my truck and sat in the parking lot for several minutes. I finally decided that I would take the one path that absolutely guaranteed I would never gamble again. I unclipped my seatbelt, pulled out onto the I–5 freeway, and pushed the accelerator of my ten-year-old F-150 to the floor. To my surprise within a minute or two I was doing 110 mph. My goal was to find a solid concrete bridge abutment and plow into it head-on.” — Kurt Dahl
A little past 4 on a January morning in 2005, I dragged myself out of a casino north of Seattle after twelve straight hours on a slot machine, pushing the play button as fast as I could until I had lost all my money. I got into my truck and sat in the parking lot for several minutes. I finally decided that I would take the one path that absolutely guaranteed I would never gamble again. I unclipped my seatbelt, pulled out onto the I–5 freeway, and pushed the accelerator of my ten-year-old F-150 to the floor. To my surprise within a minute or two I was doing 110 mph. My goal was to find a solid concrete bridge abutment and plow into it head-on.