Not a Big Deal

It was supposed to be a picnic, a fun-filled event where his and her children could get acquainted; a family outing on a lake in southern Indiana.  But Helen couldn't come and at the last minute, Ivan backed out. But Dean was excited to spend the day with his soon-to-be step-sisters, especially Judy. 

You know the story. I've written about it in my blog, so I'll skip past the part where sixteen-year-old Dean insisted on driving and somewhere south of Indianapolis on narrow two-lane Highway 135 decided to pass a car on a hill and narrowly made it back before impact with an oncoming car. I'll skip past the part where he kept looking at Judy in the rearview mirror, dropped a wheel off the shoulder, over corrected and shot across the road, but made it back on the road before impact with a tree. I'll just skip to the part where Mother, or was it Royal Orville, forgot the pop and Dean volunteered to go to the nearest town to get the forgotten drinks, and he invited me to go along. 

The country dirt roads were curvy and narrow. Dean turned up the radio, began to sing, and put the pedal to the metal. He was driving way too fast, skidded around a 90 degree turn, lost control of the car, and that's when we made impact with an oncoming car.

1954 Ford

A stranger--a young teenage girl--pulled me out of the car and laid me down on the grass nearby. She kept telling me not to fall asleep, but I really, really wanted to. She used something to cover the gash on my forehead, but the blood had already spilled all over my brand new t-shirt and pedal pushers. It was a hot day, but I was shivering and I thought I was going to be sick. Then everything went blank. I don't remember much of anything else, until that night and the next thirty or so nights. 

When I laid down to go to bed, the pain in my chest was excruciating. Every breath was painful, I tried not to cry, but I couldn't help it. Judy, in the twin bed next to mine, covered her ears with a pillow, and Hazel, on more than one occasion, threatened to whip me if I didn't stop crying. But I couldn't stop, so one day about a month after the accident Mother said to Hazel, "I think we should take Carol Louise to the doctor." And so they did. 

Two broken ribs, a concussion, and glass still imbedded in my forehead. But hey, no big deal.



Note: My blog reads backwards, last page to first. The current post is the most recent in a series of posts that relate to one subject. But you already knew that, didn't you?