Do you want to read about when, back in the late 1950s, my sweet loving mother nearly killed four of us, when she panicked and passed the freeway exit? She cut across several lanes of fast moving traffic, not only scaring us nearly to death, but everyone else traveling on the road, as well.
Or, how about the time when my parents moved back to California after living in El Paso, Texas? It was in the late 1960s. They had leased a small two bedroom, furnished house, since they sold all of their things so they wouldn't have to bring all of that with them. When their least was up, they found another, nicer place in a nicer neighborhood. While my husband was at work, I took my two year-old daughter to their old place to help clean, and pack. My parents left to take most of their things to the new place, so my younger, fourteen year-old sister and I stayed to finish up last minute cleaning. I still had my daughter with us. While they were gone, their crazy landlady tried to get into the place when my younger sister, myself, and my two-year old child were finishing cleaning the place up. This crazy woman had a Bowie Knife, and attempted to forcer her way in, even though I told her that my parents would return soon, and she could come in when they were back.
|Keep Your Car|
Someone I follow on Plinky.com, "Sparchitect," wrote one that reminded me of another situation my late husband, our toddler daughter, and I were caught in. It was early in 1965. We were in Los Angeles on business, and were leaving, heading for the freeway on a downtown street, to return to our Orange County home. We stopped for a red light, and about half a dozen police cars came screeching to a stop, right in front of a bank, shotguns at the ready, and all. I put our daughter in the floor as fast as I could, and we really weren't sure what to do. We were in a pickup truck, which had us in a very uncomfortable place. We had a red light, and other cars were crossing. While armed police went running into the bank, and a quick as possible, we finally got a little break in cross traffic, and hit the gas, and left the area, as fast as safely possible. I think we may have felt slightly saver in a car, as we would have been lower in profile, and our daughter would not have been jammed under the dashboard, where it was rather warm from the engine heat, either.
My husband has passed away, but the rest of us, including our youngest daughter is now thirty-eight. She and her hubby have a son who is now twenty, and a daughter who just turned eighteen this past July.