The picture above stimulated the first mystical experience of my life. One of three first experiences in a twenty-four hour period for me. Quite a record for a six-year-old I’d say, not to mention, my future husband was linked to one of them. My mother and her dear friend Mildred who’d just learned to drive, decided one cold evening when their husbands were at work they’d like to drive over and spend the evening with Mildred’s sister, Mary, who many years later was fortunate enough to become my mother-in-law. While we were there Susie, Miss Mary’s prissy big girl, showed us little kids the glorious pictures in the big family bible, complete with terrifying stories of angels, devils, fire reigning down on Sodom and Gomorrah, and Adam and Eve being cast out of Eden. It was awesome.
Long after dark, we started home. Naturally, all the kids immediately fell asleep as soon as the car got warm and dark. The next thing I knew, I saw blazing lights as we whirled around. I realized immediately we were ascending into heaven in a whirlwind of fire but I wasn’t to happy about it! Howling kids were tossed all over the car. It turned out to be a far less heavenly experience. We’d been hit by a drunk driver but somehow escaped serious injury or a trip to heaven. The last thing my mother told me the next morning was not to tell my class that Johnny Jones daddy got drunk and hit our car. I had no idea it was Johnny’s daddy who’d hit our car
I had my next new experience first thing the next morning at school. I was the first up at our class’s first and last Show and Tell the next morning. I had a black eye to Show and plenty to Tell. Despite Mother’s warning, I felt the first grade really would be interested to know Johnny Jones’s father got drunk and hit our car. Miss Angie made me hush and sit down. We never had Show and Tell again, ever. Johnny Jones and I got in a fight at recess. We had to sit in the hall. The third first for me.
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