Melody Owens was 16 years old and sitting in the middle of the front seat of the family car as her father made the long haul from the family’s home in southern Illinois to the state of Washington where they had planned to spend their vacation. Her younger brother was sitting to her right, while her mother sat in the backseat with her two additional younger brothers as they made their way through the night along the interstate.

Suddenly, the car skids out of control and slams against the guardrail. Glass shatters and the night’s silence is pierced by the sound of metal grinding against metal as the car scrapes along the barrier for over 140 feet before spinning to a stop only to burst into flames.

Her father is thrown from the vehicle to the other side of the road, his leg mangled and broken in four places. After regaining her senses, Owens finds herself trapped in the car staring at a wall of flames, her chest pinned by the steering wheel. From his immobile position on the roadside, her father desperately screams, pleading for his family to make their way out of the engulfed vehicle.

“I can remember waking up that night,” Owens recalls, “and it was so bright because the fire was all over the windshield. I remember him calling my name, and he would call each one of our names, and he was saying, ‘Get out of the car! Melody, get out of the car!’ I could hear that, and as a kid I was trying to obey and do what he said to do.”

Following her father’s voice, Owens fought through the pain of a broken arm and forced the steering wheel off of herself, then noticed her brother who was still beside her in the front seat.

“I thought, ‘If I could just get his seatbelt undone and push him out the door, I’ll come around and get him,’ because I’m not comprehending how bad it is,” Owens remembers.

In that moment, Owens heard a voice speak to her.

“My arm was broken and I couldn’t get the seatbelt undone. And although it seemed like minutes I’m sure it was only seconds because I wasn’t burned that bad, but a voice clearly said to me, ‘Don’t do that, he’s dead. Just get out, get out of the car,” Owens said assuredly. “And I know that was the Holy Spirit speaking to me.”

Owens heeded the instructions she had been given and navigated her way out of the car. With her clothes on fire, she walked to the other side of the interstate and collapsed, succumbing to the pain. From this distance she was able to fully observe the chaos.

Traffic had come to a standstill. The black of the night was illuminated by the inferno that was once a family car. No one made any efforts to exit their cars and help Owens’ family.

“You can’t imagine how horrible that would be,” Owens said, “to be across the road there, not able to get over and save your family, but you can see, you can see it. You can see your family’s inside that car and you can’t help them.”

Owens’ mother was still inside the car along with her three younger brothers. Her father, still helplessly screaming, began directing his instructions to his wife, who was trapped in the backseat. Her arm was not only broken, but all of the bones in it had been crushed, rendering her virtually powerless to find her way to freedom from the firestorm.

“After an eternity she finally did; she fell into the flames here,” Owens told, motioning to the floor. “That was as far as she could go.”

Owens mother lied in the pool of flames and she recalls her father beseeching passers-by to “Please help her, please help her…”

Owens notes the most dispiriting aspect from her night of horror was the lack of assistance that was given to her family in their time of desperation.

“It still bothers me and it still hurts to think that nobody offered,” Owens reminisced, her voice cracking as the light from the room caught tears that welled up in her eyes, causing them to sparkle. “Nobody did.”

Although her accident happened over 40 years ago, Owens still struggles with the memories it etched into her mind. Now a retired schoolteacher, Owens uses her time to focus on herself, her health and her relationship with God. She “still gets her thrills” from teaching by leading a Bible study group on Wednesday nights for adolescent girls.

Owens credits her experience for her strong faith. In the accident, Owens lost all three of her younger brothers, ages nine, 12, and 15 at the time. Her mother was burned on over 85 percent of her body and had to spend a year in a burn ward. Owens never returned to finish her senior year of high school.

Through everything, Owens maintains an optimistic disposition, crediting her firm belief in God for her positive outlook. She leads a tremendously active lifestyle, walking four miles every day and dancing. Owens is a line dancer and has performed most recently at the Delta Fair and Mid-South Fair.

“And we did a flash mob in Batesville last Saturday,” Owens said with a grin.

“I just know that God has a reason for me to survive all this and I just try to give back and try to do what he wants me to do,” Owens said with conviction. “And through everything he’s been with me.”