Monday, January 19, 2004
One more thing
I realize that today is Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday (or at least, observed). I have a tremendous amount of respect for Dr. King. I know that the work that he did was instrumental in bringing civil rights to America, and even though we still have a long way to go toward racial tolerance, I know that we would have much further to go without him.
However, this day happens to also be another anniversary. My senior year of college, I was at home on MLK Day. I think it was the first year that the University of Arkansas gave us the day off from classes. My mom and I were watching TV, and my Dad had gone to town for a doctor's appointment. We got a call from a neighbor (now, remember, in the country, "neighbor" means anyone within a 10-mile radius) that Dad had been in a car accident, and we would need to come help get the truck out of the ditch. They said Dad was alright. We figured we had some work to do, so Mom put on her ratty work coat, and I put on a bra (hey, it was my day off!). I didn't put on my glasses though... I guess I just forgot.
When we rounded the corner onto the scene, we were amazed by the amount of flashing lights. Several police cars and an ambulance were all crowding the road. Mom said, "That can't be for Dad!" But it was. We parked the car and started running. As we got closer, we could see the truck, flipped onto its side. Mom made some sort of pitiful noise, which broke my heart, and I grabbed her hand so that we could run together.
Dad was already on a stretcher. He was awake but not really that coherent. He knew who we were, and he was in pretty good spirits. We could see that he had driven off the road into a culvert, and it appeared that the trucked had flipped up into a tree and slammed down sideways. He was wearing his seatbelt, thank God. Apparently, the neighbor (whose identity, to this day, remains a mystery) found him crawling out of the smashed back window.
We went to the hospital. I rode in the ambulance because I didn't have my glasses. We didn't have the siren on, so I figured they thought that Dad was going to make it. I cried quietly in the passenger seat. My mom drove her car, calling my sister at work on the cell phone. When we got to the hospital, my sister was already waiting in tears.
As we waited for the hospital to process Dad in the emergency room, he kept asking us what happened. We would tell him that he flipped his truck, and he would ask if he could fix it. "I don't think so, Dad." "But I just washed it today!" Over and over.
It turned out that he broke his back and his sternum, so I guess it's pretty incredible that he made it out the back window. He was in the hospital for about a week, and though the recovery was slow, he did recover.
So Martin Luther King, Jr. Day is something I remember for two reasons. One, for the fallen leader, and one for my dad, risen again.
I realize that today is Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday (or at least, observed). I have a tremendous amount of respect for Dr. King. I know that the work that he did was instrumental in bringing civil rights to America, and even though we still have a long way to go toward racial tolerance, I know that we would have much further to go without him.
However, this day happens to also be another anniversary. My senior year of college, I was at home on MLK Day. I think it was the first year that the University of Arkansas gave us the day off from classes. My mom and I were watching TV, and my Dad had gone to town for a doctor's appointment. We got a call from a neighbor (now, remember, in the country, "neighbor" means anyone within a 10-mile radius) that Dad had been in a car accident, and we would need to come help get the truck out of the ditch. They said Dad was alright. We figured we had some work to do, so Mom put on her ratty work coat, and I put on a bra (hey, it was my day off!). I didn't put on my glasses though... I guess I just forgot.
When we rounded the corner onto the scene, we were amazed by the amount of flashing lights. Several police cars and an ambulance were all crowding the road. Mom said, "That can't be for Dad!" But it was. We parked the car and started running. As we got closer, we could see the truck, flipped onto its side. Mom made some sort of pitiful noise, which broke my heart, and I grabbed her hand so that we could run together.
Dad was already on a stretcher. He was awake but not really that coherent. He knew who we were, and he was in pretty good spirits. We could see that he had driven off the road into a culvert, and it appeared that the trucked had flipped up into a tree and slammed down sideways. He was wearing his seatbelt, thank God. Apparently, the neighbor (whose identity, to this day, remains a mystery) found him crawling out of the smashed back window.
We went to the hospital. I rode in the ambulance because I didn't have my glasses. We didn't have the siren on, so I figured they thought that Dad was going to make it. I cried quietly in the passenger seat. My mom drove her car, calling my sister at work on the cell phone. When we got to the hospital, my sister was already waiting in tears.
As we waited for the hospital to process Dad in the emergency room, he kept asking us what happened. We would tell him that he flipped his truck, and he would ask if he could fix it. "I don't think so, Dad." "But I just washed it today!" Over and over.
It turned out that he broke his back and his sternum, so I guess it's pretty incredible that he made it out the back window. He was in the hospital for about a week, and though the recovery was slow, he did recover.
So Martin Luther King, Jr. Day is something I remember for two reasons. One, for the fallen leader, and one for my dad, risen again.
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