I was making an appointment with Dr. Wyant and got a pleasant surprise. The young lady with whom I was speaking said that our friend, Vicky, trained her before she retired. News to me.
The young lady said now Vicky could spend more time with her husband. Then she told me Vicky got remarried a year ago. The last I knew she had lost her husband about 10 years ago.
Davis and Vicky’s daughter, Jennie, were friends at day-care when they were just barely out of the toddler stage.
I lost my friend at Conservation the same way. Lana Wilson up and retired on me – no party, no photo op, just gone. Her mother (and Terry Heitz mother), were lifelong friends. I rode to school with them and their late sister, Donna.
Once I was talking to Clay Hater, an older member at Spring Grove Missionary Baptist Church just north of Warsaw where Dad was the pastor. Bro. Clay told me, “I don’t have an enemy in the world. I outlived them all.”
Bro. Clay was brutally honest. Once a State Trooper pulled him over for speeding on a Sunday morning as he was going to church. When the Trooper told him how fast he was going, Bro. Clay said, “I was going faster than that down the road a ways.”
I think he just got a warning.
Once I was coming back to ElDo with a load of papers after an all-nighter in Pittsburg. There was a State Trooper stopped on the curve west of Sulphur Springs Church. He asked me know fast I was going. I told him the truth. I didn’t know. I wasn’t watching the speedometer, I was watching for deer. He didn’t know either so he let me go.
Once Dad was holding a newborn calf in the back of his pickup with the bale spear in the up position. The driver (not me) hit the gas and Dad fell with the tip of the bale spear tip sticking under his chin. We decided he needed to get to the emergency room NOW. I drove his car with him in the back seat laying down holding something on the wound. We didn’t have a cell phone so Mom called the emergency room to tell them we were coming. I was on Hwy. 54, just past Jack’s Tavern Road when I met State Trooper Jim Walker doing about 80. I saw the front of his car go down as he turned on his red lights. I kept the pedal to the medal.
Jim caught me by the time I got to the stoplight at Allison’s Station. I signaled a left turn and pointed down at the back seat. Jim followed me to the Emergency Room. The ER crew was outside waiting with a wheel chair for Dad. Jim watched us get him inside and just drove off.
Some days later I saw Jim and he said, “I was starting to wonder about you.” I told him what had happened to Dad. He was OK after treatment. KL