Jeff and Donna sent me a most original gift...a small jar with a lot of different subjects on strips of paper....the reason being that I complained that I've run out of subjects to write about in my blog.
This was done over long months of gathering....and I eagerly opened it and the first slip I took out was..have you ever been in an accident and tell about it.
Well, yes, the year was about 1965 and Jeff and I were returning from a trumpet lesson that Jeff was taking...and I was so busy telling me how terrible he sounded that I forgot to watch where I was going.
We had a little Valiant car and we were driving on a very narrow road...so narrow that all the cars were parked halfway on the sidewalk....except one.
Now let me explain....I was a very inexperienced driver at this time....and the Lincoln Continental thathat I bumped into belonged to a Syrian Priest. Now this was just a few days after the 6-day War and I didn't know how he would handle this.
I was shaking all over...and instead of getting criticism from the priest and his neighbors, I received sympathy...and they were running out to see how they could help me and to give me a glass of water.
Thank God, neither Jeff or I were injured....but the car sure was.
It was driveable home, but I was too scared. I phoned Allen from the priest's house and he and Paul, my nephew came. Paul came to drive my wrecked car.
I'm sure that Jeff recollects this..and it's not one of his fondest memories.
I've grown since...I've become a better driver..but with no sense of direction.
Thank God for the GPS they gave me.
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