I was in the car near the airport with neighbors Shawn, Bob, and Logan when Shawn’s phone rang. It was daughter Lise calling from Denmark to tell us there had been a bad accident between us and home. I’m pleased that Lise keeps watch over me, but I don’t know how she does it. Shawn was driving, so Logan and Bob looked at phones from time to time to check on traffic. We continued to the restaurant, thinking our eating dinner would give time for the wreck to be removed. We were there a little over an hour.

We knew the road was a mess. A dump truck had a flat tire, causing the driver to lose control. It dumped gravel across the center divider and onto a Corvette convertible, and the truck burst into flames. Both drivers escaped and were taken to the hospital with minor injuries. The truck fire was so intense that it melted the roadway. Shawn and Bob agreed we should try the back way, but everyone else had that idea, too. Traffic did not move! We returned to the interstate, knowing it was going to take time with only one lane open on our side.

We crawled and stopped, crawled and stopped. I read instructions on the side of a tank truck. In a heavy box mounted underneath was a sign that said, “Instructions enclosed.” I have no idea what I could have learned from those instructions, but you can tell there no speed involved on the road. Shawn called neighbor D and asked her to let the dog out, because we were still 15 miles and an hour away. Poor dog. At least we could talk about our problem! Shawn and Logan could see the damage to the road much better than I could as we drove slowly past it. Immediately we sped away on the empty road, knowing there were still hundreds of vehicles inching along behind us. A trip that should have taken took 30 minutes lasted four long hours! We got home at 9:10.

All of us knew complaining would not get us home any sooner. We chatted, commented on vehicles around us, and watched lovely clouds in the sky. Shawn and Bob were teasing each other, and I said aloud that she could put some ice cubes down his back. She still had her drink from the restaurant, and I realized she had done the deed when Bob slapped at his back. Oh! No! I couldn’t get the words out fast enough. “I’m sorry. One of these days I’m going to need Bob to fix a leak for me! What will I do then? I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

They laughed at me, back pedaling in a car that wasn’t moving at all.