I Almost Died
A concussion. A fractured sternum. A punctured lung. Eight stitches to cap it all off.
A note from Garry Kasparov: A week and a half ago, I got a call from my friend, RDI’s CEO Uriel Epshtein. Uriel was in the hospital. He was just coming to after a serious scooter accident. (The first thing I asked him was, “Are you sure this was an accident?”—you can never be too certain in our line of work!) Nevertheless, hearing proof of life was a relief. I invite you to read Uriel’s reflection on this brush with death.
Uriel Epshtein is the CEO of the Renew Democracy Initiative, which publishes The Next Move.
On May 17, I almost died.
I remember eating breakfast. And I remember finding myself in a hospital bed hours later. That’s about it… when I woke up, I couldn’t even recall who the president was (in retrospect this might have been a blessing).
The doctors told me that I had been in a serious accident while on my scooter. Nobody is really sure exactly what happened yet, but I suffered a concussion, fractured my sternum, punctured a lung, got eight stitches above my right eye, and mangled my knee badly enough that it may require surgery. My memory has been fuzzy for the past week. I find myself repeating things. My memory has been fuzzy for the past week… I find myself…
As the CEO of the Renew Democracy Initiative, I recently brought a delegation to Ukraine. We stood with our Ukrainian partners mere miles from where people were shooting and getting shot.
So, naturally, it was Washington, DC that nearly killed me.
I’ve never really bought the line that we should “live every day like it’s your last.” It’s a feel-good platitude; if we actually followed it to its logical conclusion, we’d be free of consequences and therefore free of purpose. That proverbial “last day” of our lives would have less meaning as a result.
And following my accident, I believe injecting meaning into our lives is more urgent than most of us realize.
To be honest, I’ve always felt like something of a loner. I was a nerdy kid—big surprise, I know—and the intensity of my work can be a bit isolating.
But in the past 10 days, I’ve realized I have a bigger community than I knew. After news of my accident began making the rounds, colleagues, friends, and loved ones visited me in the hospital. People called and texted me. I received more food than I know what to do with. I’ve heard from people whom I’ve been out of touch with for years. I’m grateful for all of it.
More than anything, I’m grateful to be rebuilding a sense of community that grounds me. But I’m also lucky that my work itself is meaningful. That I have the opportunity to fight for values that support everyone’s freedom to develop their own approach to meaning-making, whatever it is, without others telling them what it should be.
I’m inspired by the dedication of the political dissidents in our network, who have dealt with a lot worse and keep coming back to this work. However difficult the last week and a half have been, they remind me that I have the luxury to assume that my accident was, in fact, an accident.
My insight here is nothing new. My brush with death simply made it all the more visceral for me: that I find meaning in my pro-democracy work and in having a community around me.
A meaningful life might look different for each person. But I would encourage you to find whatever that thing is for you. Find a cause. Reach out to someone you haven’t spoken to. The former might feel daunting and the latter might feel awkward, but after what happened to me, I’ll gladly take difficulty or awkwardness over regret.
This isn’t just about me: If you follow RDI’s work or subscribe to The Next Move, you know that our ship has stayed the course. In the past week, we’ve published pieces from Senator Mark Kelly and former NATO Secretary General Anders Fogh Rasmussen. We’re continuing to plan exciting events, civic education initiatives, and aid for our Ukrainian friends.
That’s all a testament to the commitment and professionalism of our small team, and the leadership of our board and advisors. We suffered what, in military terms, might be called a decapitation strike (albeit a temporary one, I hope!) and are continuing the work.
I want to thank you for your continued support. I’ll see you soon on an RDI podcast or at an event—maybe bandaged up or with a black eye, but I’ll be there. Although I’m not sure how I’m going to get there yet—my friends have staged a bit of an intervention for me: Cut back on scootering!
More from The Next Move:
Surviving Russia’s Biggest Attack on Ukraine in 18 Months
A firsthand dispatch from an American in Kyiv.
As horrible life-threatening accidents may be, they do give us cause to reflect and reprioritze our lives toward what really matters. May your body and soul continue to mend and become stronger than ever!
So very glad you have survived this terrible accident intact. I am glad to know you received good medical care and are on your way home. Thank you for all you do and I hope you heal up quickly.