TAMPA - One man has had a ``year of living hell'' while another wonders what he could have done differently.

One copes with physical problems.

The other is dogged by doubt.

Two people, two counties, two truckers. One massive tragedy links them.

Christopher Espinosa and Michael Henderson survived Hank Earl Carr's 1998 rampage, but not without scars.

That May 19 afternoon, Espinosa was hauling outdoor signs to New York, driving up Interstate 75 in Pasco County. Carr barreled by. He seemed to be shooting at any large truck in sight, maybe to trigger a crash to stymie police in a dogged chase.

A year later, Espinosa, 57, finds himself on another troubled road. Bones shattered in his left arm when a bullet from Carr's rifle ripped through the window of his truck.

``I don't have full use of my arm,'' says the Spring Hill resident, who endured extensive surgery. A nephew stepped in to help, but Espinosa's business slumped during his three-month absence.

A truck was damaged. There were delivery problems.

Worse, doctors tell him he needs more surgery.

His No. 1 customer is concerned.

``If it's not me who does the work they'll stop doing business with me,'' Espinosa says. ``I have no choice. I can't have the surgery. I can't afford to be out three months.''

He and his wife, Rosa, keep hoping for better times. They blame the Tampa Police Department's policies for their misfortune. Carr, handcuffed in front, was able to free himself.

Espinosa sympathizes with the slain officers' families.

``But my life has been a year of living hell,'' he says. ``I have never been contacted by the police or anyone else to see how I'm doing. I'm never included in remembrances of the event. I've been treated like an outcast.''

Where Espinosa finds anger, Henderson finds questions.

Carr ambushed him after killing the two detectives.

Henderson, a 13-year veteran of the Hillsborough County Fire Department, was driving a car parts delivery truck when Childers hit the brakes of a Ford Taurus at I- 275 and Floribraska Avenue.

When Henderson drove off the freeway, he could not clearly see the movement in the car ahead. Carr soon was walking around the parked vehicle. Henderson assumed Carr was a plainclothes officer until he saw the dangling handcuff.

Carr seemed almost nonchalant, ordering Henderson out of the truck.

Henderson paused. The second time Carr ordered him out, it was with a gun aimed at his face. Henderson slipped into a crop of nearby trees and Carr fled in the truck.

``In the long run, I guess I did the right thing,'' says Henderson, 48. ``And I'm thankful he didn't shoot me.''

When Henderson saw the detectives, he knew immediately they were dead. Still, he wonders if he could have done more.

In the days ahead, some people would repeat his own doubts: Couldn't he have wrestled the gun away? Why not run over the guy?

Henderson has no real answers, but he chronicled every detail of the incident in case he was called to testify. When Carr committed suicide, Henderson took that piece of paper and gladly threw it away.

Nowadays, he's easily startled when pedestrians approach his car in traffic.

``Too often,'' he says, ``the people here in Tampa have no respect for the law.''

Jennifer Barrs can be reached at (813) 259-7832 or jbarrs@tampatrib.com. Candace J. Samolinski can be reached at (813) 948-4215 or (727) 815-1087 or csamolinski@tampatrib.com.