03-03-2017, 08:27 PM
Well, WAY back in 1982 it was, Thanksgiving day. Had the wife and kids (1.5 and 3 at the time) loaded up and we were journeying to my aunts house for the bird fest. Following my mom and her crew on the turnpike in Dallas. Cars up ahead brake lights started coming on and as a competent driver I got off the gas and started slowing down and ended up braking pretty hard as the very light traffic came to a complete halt. I was stopped about 8 feet behind my moms tuna boat ford and all was cool, until I checked the mirror. Holy Shit, that fucking van is not slowing down. He hit me about 50 mph, shoved me into my mms car, her into the car in front of them and then spun past the right side of me and got hit in the side by the next guy in the center lane. Big fucking mess. When shit stopped moving I looked in the back seat and my son is looking back me like WTF dad? I unbuckle him and bring him to the front seat, about that time some guy reaches in over the passenger window and rolls it down and says Hand Me The Baby, do I did. The wife is still trying to get her seatbelt undone. I look in the back where my daughter was behind me and about shit, she it out, eyes rolled up in her head, she apparently hit the back of my seat, or it hit her as it snapped. I reached back and tore the seat belt out of the floor of the car, no fucking idea how I did that. I got her up with me and she started moving, thank god. Someone else is there and I hand her off and get the wife out of her belt and someone gets the pass door open and gets her out. I push open my door and my dog, chihuahua named Weller says Fuck This I want OUT and he bails, this is in the middle of the turnpike you know. I grab him, my step dad takes him and the only pic that makes in the paper is him standing there with my dod in his jacket with his head poking out.
Thats the sad story of my 81 camaro. More details, but thats most of it
Thats the sad story of my 81 camaro. More details, but thats most of it