There are those that know of my encounter that abruptly ended the summer of 1978. Giving it some thought; as I do every year. A friend did pose the notion that really no one walked away unharmed. Which I am aware of. Yes; of the 3, I only know my version. One died, we won't know about that until it happens. Everyone is going to die, eventually. Basically speaking, I was out... out of commission, out of order and out to lunch from July 31 that year, till around November. A few vague memories, but the lasting memories started at Children's Hospital. Thinking of, perhaps the best one of the bunch was the one who died. No more headache, no learning to walk again, then there is the academic side... learning math spelling and all that jazz. Speaking? yea, I had to learn that again too. I certainly wouldn't want to be in the seat of the driver; yea, not much in the physical sort of injury but just to imagine; unless the most cold hearted of people, the memories and feelings that went along with and it doesn't go away with age (time) living the rest of your life (and this happened in our teen years) with the knowledge you killed one and maimed another. Can't be easy. My only gripe with the whole thing is he never approached my dad to say, "I'm sorry I didn't mean for this to happen."
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