This evening at church the ambulance had to be called for one of the teens who was having trouble breathing. The whole church was outside waiting on the ambulance and I stood off to the side just watching and thinking. I started to feel bad for the parents of the teen. They don’t come to church with him, yet, so we had to call them to tell them what was going on.
I was hoping they would get there before the ambulance did because the scene of the ambulance and thier son in a stretcher would probably be a shock to thier system. It didn’t happen the way I wanted it to. The ambulance got there first and sure enough, as soon as his family got there the mother, I believe, was ready to jump out of the truck before it even parked. It made me sad and it made me think of my mom when I was in a pretty bad accident.
I remember seeing the truck coming out of the intersection, hitting the brakes, and then all of a sudden I couldn’t get out of the car. The driver door was jammed. So I decided to go out the passenger side. As I went over the center console, I had to tilt my head forward, because there isn’t much space in a Corvette to jump over like that, and the blood started to flow from the gash in my forehead. As soon as I got out, some lady in scrubs told me to sit down and lay back.
Almost in a flash, it seems, my mother was on the scene bawling, crying, and screaming. I can only imagine the scene she must’ve seen; an ambulance, a firetruck, my Corvette in ruins, and me on the floor covered in blood.
That must’ve been a total shock.
This HERE is the 84 Corvette: before and after.