On June 3rd, 2011, laughing and jovial having just floated down a mountain river, seven people in a pick up truck were forced off a mountain road. Three were inside the cab but four were in the bed. Two were pinned under the truck for about an hour. Until that instant it was a wonderful day in the sun with friends and family.
Even though I was one of the two pinned, it was only my leg and I was basically ok. I was more worried about my nephew because he was completely pinned under the truck. The amazing thing about the whole incident, miraculous I’m told, is that no one was seriously injured.
This latest narrow escape has given me pause to reflect on the times down through my life I came close but somehow managed to avoid the Grim Reaper.
The first time I can remember was when I was nine and in an accident on a mountain road in Alabama. Mom was distracted and we ran off the road down an embankment about 30 feet. The car jumped a drainage ditch and the rear wheels stuck in the ditch, stopping the car six inches from a power pole.
At this point I need to add one for all the times as a teenager I drove eighty miles an hour on dirt roads going to or from our farm in the country.
Throw in a couple more I actually know of while serving in South East Asia.
Just back from the Army I went to visit family in north Alabama. My cousin Lee wanted me to go with him and a friend to Birmingham for a night of debauchery.
I had no real reason not to go, except I just felt it was time to go home. After the six hour drive home, I went to bed only to be awakened by a call at five A.M. from my aunt telling me that Lee and his friend had driven off a mountain on their way back. Plunging down a hundred-fifty feet off the road, neither survived the accident.
Then there was the time I was on the back of a Harley going really fast racing a Mustang when we ran out of road and were headed straight into some woods.
The driver was very experienced and laid the bike down inches away from the tree line. We walked away laughing and all I sustained was a grass stain on my bell bottoms.
Counting the latest incident, that makes about seven bullets I know I’ve dodged.
So I have to be a bit philosophical about it and figure if a cat has nine lives, humans should have at least ten, leaving me with three, or at least two, if I only have nine.
Now that I’m sixty, I can only hope that I get a couple-three more for accidents. If that’s the case, I think I’ll be ok. Because if you average them out over sixty years that’s one about every eight and a half years.
Still Walt...you don't want to push your luck. Afterall "ya don't
grow old being a fool "...my dad would say.
I'm happy you're still with us because you have a great American novel in you waiting for the right time to shine.
Love,
Susan
Fun story, interesting thought, however...if you don't mind...i won't be takin'a take a ride from ya-for now, i'll just stick to readin' your stories!
Life's fun-
jch
Walt, from one wild child, myself. To another wild child, you. Don't press your luck. I am so glad that no one was injured in that episode. I raced automobiles on public roads, drag strips, oval tracks and on road courses. Piloted fast boats and ridden fast motorcycles in the wild. Without more than one semi-exciting experience. But at sixty-nine I now press my luck just a little less than when I had ultra sharp reflexes and more bravado than Clark Kent. One incident often accounts for more than one of your nine lives. I bid you love and peace my dear friend. Jon Michael
A scientist/philosopher explores the mysteries of existence in a highly personal quest for answers to life's ultimate questions, forging a bridge between sterile science and spiritual values -- a scholarly work for all who seek wisdom, truth, true fr
A scientist/philosopher explores the mysteries of existence in a highly personal quest for answers to life's ultimate questions, forging a bridge between sterile science and spiritual values -- a scholarly work for all who seek wisdom, truth, true fr
On June 3rd, 2011, laughing and jovial having just floated down a mountain river, seven people in a pick up truck were forced off a mountain road. Three were inside the cab but four were in the bed. Two were pinned under the truck for about an hour. Until that instant it was a wonderful day in the sun with friends and family.
