Automobile Gymnastics

My son, Dan, is now 24 years old. Amazing. Especially considering I’m only 35. (Believe that? I’ve got a bridge to sell you.) He has his own car, works two jobs, and is generally a great young man. He’s a little shy, but has a good sense of humor and a lot of insight. I have no idea how, but we’ve done a good job with him. (Thank you, God!) He’s responsible, for the most part, doesn’t do drugs, (as far as I know, anyway) hasn’t gotten anybody pregnant (as far as I know, anyway) so I figure that’s damned near perfect. He still lives, “at home,” and probably will for quite some time. And that’s fine with me.

The kid has a wonderful work ethic. He’s worked part time since he was 14, has NEVER missed even an hour of work, and is often called in on his days off if someone else doesn’t show up. He never refuses.

A few years ago, when he didn’t have his own car, I would take him to and from his jobs. I would leave my work at 10:00 in the morning, go home to pick him up, take him to work and then come back to my work. Sometimes he’d work a split shift and I’d pick him up from work at 2:00 in the afternoon, take him back home, then take him to work again at 5:00. I’d pick him up at closing time, usually around 10:30 p.m.

One day, when I was especially busy, I picked him up at 2:00. He had to go back in at 5:00. Rather than spend most of my afternoon running to and from home and his work, I brought him back to my office for the couple of hours before he had to go back in.

“Dad, can I use your car to go over to Jeremy’s house for a while?”
“Sure. Just make sure you’re back here by 4:30 so I can take you to work. I need the car this evening.”

Off he goes.

About 2:45 the phone rings.

“This is Yip. Can I help you?”

“Yip, my name is Mary. I’m here with your son, Dan. He needs to speak to you.”

What the hell? What’s going on?

“Dad, you’re probably going to hate me for this.”

I’m soiling my pants, because I know something is very wrong. I try to sound as calm as possible.

“Oh, I don’t think so, son. What’s up? Who’s Mary?”

“She let me use her cell phone. I rolled the car.”

“WHAT?!?! You’re talking, so you must be alright. What happened? Are you OK?”

He’s sniffling, crying a little. “I’m OK. But the car’s not. It’s all crushed in.”

“Don’t worry about the car, son. I don’t care about the car. Where are you? Are you sure you’re OK?”

“I’m OK. I’m fine.”

“Ok. It’ll be alright, son. Let me speak to Mary again.”

Mary: “I think he’s OK. We’re over on Coalmine Road. I think he was going too fast for the curve. (Imagine that. A teenager speeding.) The car’s upside-down in the ditch. He’s not bleeding or anything. He’s just a bit shaken up.”

“Thank you, Mary. Thank you so much! I don’t know where you are on Coalmine, so can you call the police for me? I can have someone pick me up and we’ll be there as soon as we can. I would really appreciate it if you could stay there until the police get there.”

“Sure, no problem. I’m not going anywhere.”

I call my father who lives close to my work. He picks me up, we head over to Coalmine Road, which is a rural, very curvy and twisting road about 5 miles from my office. I just know I’m going to find my kid with broken bones, massive head injuries and blood everywhere. Thankfully, I’m wrong. He’s fine. Shaken, but fine.

The car is indeed in the ditch, smashed up beyond repair. The cops show up, take down information. Mary leaves, with me shouting ‘thank you’ to her repeatedly. It’s a single car wreck, with no injuries, so there’s apparently not much information the cops need. A tow truck shows up and hauls away what’s left of the car. I’m examining the boy for damage. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine dad. I’m just sorry about the car.”

“Well son, I guess this is what happens when you drive too fast. I hope you’ve learned something here. Don’t worry about the car. That’s why we have insurance. Thank God you were wearing your seat belt! I’m just glad you’re not hurt.”

“Yeah. Me too, ‘cause I have to work tonight.”

The next day it hit me: The car was getting a few years and miles on it, so I canceled all insurance coverage except liability, about 2 weeks before the wreck.

So it goes. At least the kid wasn’t hurt.

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