Not so Ancient History II

I am doing great on my New Year's Resolution to start my personal history. Here it is already week 2 and I am still going strong!

The topic for this week is...

Your first car! How did you get it? What make and model was it? Any fun stories?

My first car was a truck. I think my dad arranged that on purpose. He knew I was going to need something big and beefy to survive. It is truly sad but I have no earthly idea what the make and model were. I wish my dad was alive so I could fill in that little bit of info. I do know it was a lovely shade of burgundy. I drove a burgundy truck.

One of the results of having a truck was that during my senior year I was the designated riser driver for our Madrigal group. The very first time the boys loaded them into the back they just stacked them straight up and therefore the last few risers were hanging over edge of the tailgate. I didn't realize this until I was driving home with Wendy B. I turned the corner and she started screaming that the risers were falling out! I turned to look back at them and apparently I turned the steering wheel as well. I turned back just in time to drive over the curb and ram my right headlight into a big tree!

I distinctly remember watching Wendy bounce up and hit her head on the roof of the truck. I think it broke her clip that she was wearing in her hair. I dropped her off and started to head for home. I had 2 thoughts. The first was I had avoided the wrath of Miss M. (the choir teacher) by not losing the risers out of the back of my truck. Well done on my part! The second thought was it wouldn't do me any good because my dad was going to KILL me.

I got home and as luck would have it Dad was in the garage AND he was holding a hammer. I remember getting out of that burgundy truck and just walking up to him and blurting out. "I hit a tree." He started waving the hammer around and yelling all kinds of questions and I fled into the safety of the house and had a good cry! I did go back later to get some tree pieces for my scrapbook which I have yet to put together.

One year later Dennis was driving my truck home from school at the U and a cute little old man who had no business driving pulled into our lane going about 10 miles an hour. We ran into the back of him going 50. I thought we had killed them! Dennis got out and checked on them to make sure they were ok while I sat in the truck and commenced with the freaking out! After he reported that they were fine I started to face the reality that I was going to have to tell my dad! I think Dennis was thinking about the same thing because we both start pacing up and down the median waiting for the police.

It actually worked out great for me because Dennis dropped me off at work and then went to my house to break the news to my dad. I don't think Dad yelled at him. Dad called me later at work and told me that he was glad that we weren't hurt and that we were much more important than any car or any burgundy truck for that matter. I think I liked that second accident better.

It was a good truck. But obviously not good enought to take a bunch of pictures of to share with you!