I had haze in my vision – then the car crash happened

‘I’m scared’, I said to my friend Bill.

I was in a state of confusion, unable to grasp where I was or what had happened.

Bill told me I was going to be okay, but flashing lights filled my vision, and I could see a firefighter cutting my airbag away from a car as I sat inside it.

Something was very wrong.

Having pulled me out of the car, a paramedic asked whether I could walk to the ambulance. 

I said I could, but stumbled and I felt like I was in a daze.

We had been at a junction just minutes from our lodge for the night, when a car smashed into our side at 50mph. That’s when everything went blank. 

It wasn’t until memories started coming back to me that I realised that smog was the cause of my crash.

Just four days prior, I had traveled from London to Bill in California, for a week-long road trip. 

We met in New York through mutual friends while I was living there.

I had agreed to join him on the road to help scout landscapes to inspire his next artwork. 

I was excited – California conjures images of sun, surf and some of the world’s most iconic national parks. I had been there before, but it is so vast – America’s third largest state – but we were hitting locations I hadn’t been before.

Air pollution wasn’t something I gave much thought to when I set out.

Everything was going great, however midway through the journey, driving towards Bakersfield in California’s Central Valley, we noticed a haze settling into the air as the sun dipped below the horizon. At first it looked almost cinematic.

But as we pressed on, the haze thickened into an oppressive grey, and a faint, smoky smell began to seep through the air vents.

We became concerned and did a quick Google search which revealed that air quality in Bakersfield that day was classified as unhealthy for sensitive groups, including children and those with conditions like asthma. 

The dominant pollutant was PM2.5 – a fine particulate matter small enough to penetrate deep into the lungs. It causes the largest health impacts globally and contributes to millions of deaths each year.

That day in particular, levels were far above World Health Organization guidelines, and air-quality advisories warned against exercising outdoors, recommended keeping windows closed, and suggested wearing a mask where possible.

This, it turned out, was not unusual for California.

The state frequently tops national lists for year-round particle pollution and also struggles with high ozone levels – the primary component of smog.

We continued our journey with Bill at the wheel, but as night fell, driving through the smog became increasingly unnerving. I was struggling to see anything.

Fruit trees lined both sides of the road, serving as the only guide as to where the tarmac ended. Road markings were almost impossible to make out, as were the headlights emerging suddenly from oncoming traffic.

That’s when our car was hit. 

Bill informed me that while we were stopped at an intersection, another driver, unable to see through the thick smog, had struck us side-on, impacting the driver’s side of our car. 

While Bill had escaped the crash unscathed, the force of the collision and the deployment of my airbag thrust me forward, causing the side of my face to strike the dashboard and knock me out.

I was transported to the nearest major trauma unit in Fresno. 

My head throbbed. The ambulance driver, after I asked him what had happened to my head, showed me a photo on his phone: an egg-sized lump swelling from the side of my skull.

At the hospital, I was rushed in for a CT scan and fortunately, doctors found only a very small bleed on my brain, so surgery wasn’t required. I was relieved. 

Neurologists at the hospital eventually diagnosed a mild concussion, prescribing rest and painkillers.

Staff told me there were dozens of other patients admitted following car accidents linked to the smog, and that beds were in short supply. 

As I was reassured by the doctors that I was going to be okay, I started to relay the news to family and friends back home. They were concerned but happy – it could have been much worse. 

After 26 hours of observation, I was discharged.

Despite the region’s grim reputation, efforts to clean up the air have been underway for decades. Local air quality authorities, alongside California’s state regulators, have introduced stricter vehicle emissions standards, controls on industrial and agricultural pollution, and incentives to transition to cleaner equipment. 

Public health and environmental campaigns continue to push for stronger protections, particularly for communities most vulnerable to poor air quality, such as those in low income housing close to industrial waste sites and agricultural wastelands.

Progress has been made with these efforts – pollution levels are lower than they were several decades ago – but the region still fails to meet federal air quality standards, and climate change threatens to undo some of those gains.

Groups like the Central California Asthma Collaborative, California Environmental Justice Alliance partners, Leadership Counsel for Justice and Accountability, and local community coalitions in Kern County have been pushing for cleaner air by documenting health impacts, pressuring regulators, and participating in state hearings on oil drilling, pesticide use, and transportation emissions. 

For visitors passing through, the experience can be jarring: a reminder that beneath California’s postcard beauty lies an environmental crisis that is as persistent as it is invisible – until, suddenly, it isn’t. 

My near-death experience and subsequent hospital stay will serve as a lasting reminder of that reality.

If you decide to explore this glorious landscape, I urge you to travel with awareness – check air-quality forecasts before you buckle up and plan driving during daylight hours. Walk, linger, and support local communities that are working to protect the land you’ve come to admire. 

California offers extraordinary beauty, but it also asks for respect. How we move through it matters, for our own health and for the future of the places that take our breath away.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing Ross.Mccafferty@metro.co.uk. 

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