We had a major thunderstorm here last night. I was winding my way home about 9 pm when I noticed a '67 Mustang on the side of the road with it's flashers on. I knew it belong to a neighbor, an RN who assists with home deliveries. When I pulled behind her she ran back and said "Stupid car is stuck in 1st, I can't get it to do 15 miles an hour and Mrs. Johanssen is in labor!"
"Okay, take my car, I'll drive the 'Stang back to my house and get a wrecker to take to Ronsick's in the morning."
She was quickly on her way and as I was put-putting home the realization hit me: Here I was, 66.6 years old and I'm finally driving a midwife crisis car.
"Okay, take my car, I'll drive the 'Stang back to my house and get a wrecker to take to Ronsick's in the morning."
She was quickly on her way and as I was put-putting home the realization hit me: Here I was, 66.6 years old and I'm finally driving a midwife crisis car.