Her day changed. She accelerated, suddenly fainted, and crashed through the railing of the parking structure, dropping three floors. The next thing she remembers is waking with her seat and steering wheel above her. During the drop, her Toyota RAV4 flipped and landed on its roof in the garage's atrium. She was lying flat on the ceiling of her car.
Creswell, 51, of Woods Cross, said she doesn't remember the drop. She didn't even hear the 40-foot crash. All she remembers that morning of May 5 is the dozen or so very attractive emergency medical technicians that came to her rescue after an onlooker called police.
"At first, I was wondering why all the people around me had matching outfits," Creswell said. "But then I knew God was blessing me with these guys. I'm divorced and I kept thinking 'Did you bless me, God?' Because he gave me a really nice gift."
Creswell was transferred to University Hospital where she remained for two days with a broken vertebra, seven broken ribs and lacerations on the side of her face including her left ear, which split in two. She's currently undergoing physical therapy, but otherwise, said she's back to her old self. Creswell returned to work as a paralegal at the law firm Parr, Waddoups, Brown, Gee and Loveless a month after the crash at the parking garage at 185 E. 200 South.
Since then, she has been plagued with questions from worried co-workers and curious strangers. No, she wasn't texting. And no, she wasn't suicidal.
Weeks before the accident, Creswell was prescribed blood-thinning medication after a new nurse used a "bad IV" she said, during treatment for blood clots in her arms. Doctors gave her medication and said she would be fine. They never said she couldn't drive, though she had been feeling dizzy that week at work, Creswell said.
Her family could not believe she was alive after seeing pictures of the vehicle parking attendant David Robertson described as a pancake.
Her parents flew in from Arizona. Two of her four children dropped final college exams to fly to the hospital.
"I reassured them that if they were here for their inheritance, there was nothing there to get," she said.
Initially, she couldn't feel anything from her waist down. But she was fine, Creswell said. Since air bags never deployed and she was not wearing a seat belt, her body shifted to a small open space near the back of her car.
The accident also looked far worse than it was, she said. The decaf she bought that morning spilled on her, "so it made it even worse because it was dark and looked like blood."
Besides scars and pictures of the accident, all that remains about that day are office jokes about Creswell's driving ability.
Co-workers have suggested Creswell, who works mainly with business and real estate law, trade her job for a valet or stunt driver; another co-worker said he was going to dress up as her car for Halloween.
"We've all teased her about it, but we're glad she's here," said her secretary, Bonny Belt. "She's an awful tough lady with a good sense of humor."
Some of her co-workers suggested she take her survival as a second chance to enjoy life. She has since bought a new car and enrolled at Brigham Young University to finish a business degree.
"I know I'm lucky to be alive," Creswell said. "It's weird that I'm kind of famous for this now. I don't know if it's the legacy I wanted."
abreton@sltrib.com


