By Emily Lundy
I make the news list this week as Sunday on the way to church, I took a less traveled road to deliver a newspaper article to someone. I decided to continue my route as I like new landscape, slowly went around a curve, and let my front left tire slip off an obscured culvert in all the foliage. The ditch below was quite deep. Before I realized what was happening, my new car slowly it seemed kept slipping, stopping when the top of the car was at the bottom of the ravine.
I thought I might be hidden, and no one would come this way for a long time. With everything falling from the bottom to the top, I tried to get my key out of the ignition to use my panic button. Confusion took over; even left and right have never been my friends.
Finally the key came out, and I heard a woman screaming behind me as I pushed some buttons. I could even open the trunk for an escape route. The front windshield was crushed, but my seat belt had kept me tightly against the back of the seat. I began gathering what I could as rescue help in front and behind me. I opened my front door which let me out partly; a new person in town pulled me to standing position. I didn’t choose to go to the hospital. The Fire Chief took me home. All day I felt physically fine and lucky. But the next day the mental part hit me. For the second time in years I had wrecked a pretty car we had not even made the first payment on. I wanted to go somewhere and cry, still do. With all my other blunders, I have became a high maintenance mom and wife.