Stayin' Alive

Having escaped drowning, being shot in the head, and eaten by a bear, I feel pretty lucky to have spent my adult life, and a pretty hectic life, at that, without serious illness or accident. Well, I did total two cars. The first one was in my neighborhood with our only car full of kids, Cissy's car pool going to junior high. Both drivers were cited, but nobody was hurt. A neighbor got the kids to school on time, and I made it to Provo High in time for my first class. I got pretty tired of walking half way across town every day to school and back. I would walk to the neighborhood store and sit until a neighbor came along to take me and supper fixings home. One night a week I had to attend a driver's ed. class, so I stayed at school and caught up until the class started. BYU President Ernest Wilkins was in the same class (for the second time). He was a terrible driver. I had not cried when the accident happened, but when the car was fixed, about a month later, and Ted drove it into the driveway, I sat on the front steps and cried for half an hour.

Despite my being very cautious, a few years later, when we had become a two car family, a big car went right through a red light on the university campus and crashed into us. I was driving Ted to his office. We were pushed into a huge truck which had stopped at the light. Several people saw it and offered to testify that I was clearly in the right. Our poor little red VW convertable was demolished. Neither of us got hurt at all, but I discovered several days later that my wedding rings were not completely round and two little diamonds had been popped off. As the car was the last of the series and could not be replaced, we had it restored. It is now 35 years old, and still spiffy enough to shine up for the grand kids to use as a "get away" from their weddings.

In 1994 we both retired from teaching. We went out with a bang, living in London the last six months where he was to teach until Christmas. Our grandson John was 14 at the time and we decided it would be wonderful for him to go with us. John and I went over a week early, so I could show him around before the BYU students arrived. I felt so smart impressing John with my knowledge of London by taking the tube to Baker Street Station, walking in front of Madame Toussaud's and crossing Marlybone Road at the light to the school where church was meeting while the Hyde Park Chapel was being renovated.

Marlybone Road turns into M l, one of the heaviest traffic roads in Britain, but early Sunday morning there was very little traffic. I saw that the light was yellow and assumed that the car a block away would be stopping for the red light which was sure to follow. It is difficult enough in England where they drive on the wrong side, but I knew we could get across before he got there anyway. What I did not realize was that there is also a yellow light before a green one (two yellow!) The driver had seen the red one and knew the next one would be green, so he sped up! I heard the brakes and John yell "Grandma, stop!"

I do not remember flying up over the car. John watched me go 10 feet above it, fall back down on the windshield and onto the pavement. I only remember sitting like a lady on the street, my dress tucked under me. The taxi driver and John helped me up, found my shoes and glasses which were scattered all over the street, and having no pain I walked to church. My dress wasn't even dirty. The poor taxi driver wanted to take me to the hospital, but I refused. I took his card and called him the next day to tell him I was fine and on my way to catch a train to Stonehenge.

My knees were very bruised, but not painful. I put large bags of frozen peas on them the rest of the day. While lying around watching TV that day I saw a special police report of all the accidents that had happened on that street, many people killed and some were shown in wheel chairs who never recovered. Actually, the traffic signal which would have told us to WAIT had burned out. We decided not to tell grandpa until after we had gone to Paris the next week, for
fear he would not let us go. John still has nightmares where he wonders what he would have done if I hadn't survived. He didn't know a soul in the city, nor where we were living!

The next year found us in China. The year we spent teaching in a university there was the most exciting thing we have ever done. Th whole city of seven million people heard on their radio that the old white headed teacher at the university had fallen down the huge steps of the administration building and had lost several of her beautiful teeth. For the rest of our time there I was recognized by people all over town. They gestured in sign language to ask how I was doing, and some made a box with their arms to indicate they had seen me on TV. It was so hard to keep from smiling. My students said, "Don't worry how you look. No women your age in China have any teeth". My fall could have been worse, but had I fallen on the steps instead of in the broken cement of the street, I could have had a broken neck. The 20 year old surgeon did a great job on my lip, only 7 stitches.

I will tell some of our China adventures later. The experience which came closest to taking my life happened in 1998, just before I turned 70. It is quite a story, and will be my next posting.