The Red Car, Part 2

I hope everyone reading this blog has had or is having a wonderful holiday. My own Christmas was fun. I spent the morning with my 'adopted family', exchanging gifts, eating a great breakfast, and catching up.

Before I return to the story at hand, if you have not read the first part, please do us both a favor and scroll down to the post before this one and do so.

I believe I left our heroes in midflight. While enjoying an early evening dash down a country road in a convertible red MG, we crested a low rise in the road only to discover that immediately on the far side of the rise, the road turned 90 degrees to the left.

My father has always been an excellent driver, and he really earned that adjective on this night. Of the two things that saved us from crashing through a cornfield, his skill behind the wheel was the foremost. The second thing that saved us was a broad, deep ditch on the far side of that left hand turn. I don't know what combination of steering and braking my father used, but before the road ended in front of us, he brought us very nearly to a standstill and very nearly perfectly aligned to travel in the road's new direction. Unfortunately, if you'll recall, the road was slick from recent rain. (I told you that would come into play.)

In my memory the moment is straight out of a cartoon. As the car slows down to a manageable speed, pointed in the right direction, we teeter and then slide sideways down into the ditch. And it's quite the ditch— no less than 8 or 10 feet across and very nearly as deep as our car was wide. Which is to say, after sliding down to the bottom of the ditch, we were well and truly inside. And again, I will point out that there had recently been rain, meaning that the passenger side of the car— the side of myself, my mother, and our dog— was several inches deep in muck.

Fortunately, everyone was A-OK. No one was dislodged. No one was jarred. No one was hurt— not even Mitzi the dog. We were rattled. And, we were certainly stuck out on a country road we knew nothing about, but we were all OK.

After extricating ourselves from the car and the ditch, it was quickly determined that the car would not be driven from the ditch. So, as night was beginning to fall, my father set off on foot for the farmhouse to be seen up the road. The rest of us waited, and I seriously doubt that a single other car came along the road that night. Some time later we heard the sounds of an approaching tractor bearing amy father and a very neighborly farmer.

In my memory it was a very big tractor, and in a moment you'll find out how powerful it was. The farmer and my father secured a tow line to the red car's front bumper with a large hook. I don't believe the towline was tied or wrapped around anything because after a few minutes of the tractor gently pulling against the stuck car, there was a sudden give. In fact, it was the front bumper that suddenly gave as it detached from the red car. In the second cartoon moment of the night, we watched as the bumped was flung by God's own catapult into a distant part of the cornfield. I know that later, after we were out of the ditch, my father tromped off into the corn to look for the bumper, but I don't believe it was ever fully recovered. You'll recall again that I previously mentioned the corn being high enough to obscure the ground.

On the second try, our car was successfully hauled out of the ditch, and a short time later we were on the road again, headed home. It was rather late into the night at this point and were quite definitely going home much slower than before.

The only thing left to relate is that when we limped back home, rather than have curious neighbors ask after our bedraggled car, my parents stayed out late and gave the car a good washing. Now their secret is exposed to the world.

Stay tuned for other exciting stories blandly told!

"I want to die in my sleep like my granfather... not screaming and yelling like the passengers in his car."— Will Shriner