I would be less than truthful if I said that the thought of driving anywhere does not freak me out just a bit right now. I have been in three (maybe four) accidents in the last few months, and although no one was injured and my car came out unscathed each time, I find myself wondering when it's going to happen next, and if this time will be so lucky.Next weekend I am driving to DC, down on Saturday, back on Sunday. Greeeaaat.
And then there's this. Many years back, when I was a junior in college, I went to class one winter afternoon under a gray sky and came out an hour and a half later into a snowstorm. I hadn't thought to call my parents before I hiked out to the parking lot; maybe it was too early for them to be home from work, or maybe it didn't look that bad at that point. I don't remember. I got to the parking lot and carefully made my way down about three levels; there was a quarry behind the college and as they carved out each layer, they would just pave it over and make more parking lot. So, if you were parked in the back, you would have to go up a slope to get to the next level, and so on, until you reached the top, where the exit was.
It was blizzarding by the time I got to my car, and no one could make it up the slope to the next level. We were stuck, as it snowed harder and harder. A few men left their own cars and got out and actually pushed each of our cars up the slope, and then on the next level, there were a few more good Samaritans, and so on. By this time it was dark. No one else had dared leave their cars because to do so would have lost your place in line to get out. This was during the gas crisis, and the fear that you were going to run out of gas while waiting or possibly have to turn your car off until it was your turn was there, too. I was lucky to have a full tank that day.
It was two or three hours before I was all the way at the top and it was my turn to leave. The only road out was actually a long slope down, along the side of the still existing quarry, and if you didn't make the sharp left at the bottom, you'd just go over the edge and into it. The men at the top were managing the line, making sure that each car had gotten safely to the bottom and made the turn before they let the next one go.
I managed to navigate all of this safely, made the turn and then made my way to the actual exit of the campus. At which point I hit ice and missed a bus by inches. There was still no place to make a phone call. I left the campus and drove home as slowly and as safely as I could. Altogether, I think it was maybe four hours -- probably more -- since my class had ended. I pulled up in front of my house to see the front door open, light coming through the glass storm door, and both mhy parents pacing inside.
Why is this coming back to me tonight, other than the obvious? R had to go to work today; she came home briefly to change in the afternoon and then went back. Not at the bookstore, but at her real job, which is where? In the same town I went to college in, maybe a mile away from the campus. And it's snowing, and I had that stupid accident this morning.
So this is what I want to say. Let critics and Luddites say what they will, but thank god for cell phones. She called when she got there. She called when she was leaving. I have no doubt that she would have called if she had been delayed, but she's home now, and I can stop thinking about my Wild of Ride of 1974.
And of the last day of 2005. I can only hope.
