It was dark, and the MG was the only car on the back country road. As I was speeding my way home, road barricades suddenly loomed in front of me. I swerved left, and the sensitive steering of the MG jerked the car toward the right, swinging me out of control. Before I could react, I was in the front yard of a house, with the car flipped on its top.
I could hear the clacking of the fuel pump in my ear, the engine still running and not getting the gas it needed. I shakily turned the car off, looking around to place where I was — upside down, hanging from the top of the car and firmly strapped in by my seat belt.
I couldn’t move my knee. The fear of being trapped erupted from me with a scream. After a moment, I realized all I had to do was unhook myself. I flipped the three prongs of the seat belt, yanked my knee loose from where it was stuck against the steering wheel, and dropped down onto the top of the car. Disoriented, I felt for the handle and pushed open the door.
Everything was opposite what it should be. I heard voices and the sound of a siren as I crawled out. I stood up and looked at the car’s upside-down-ness, resting on the front lawn beside a telephone pole. I was filled with fear. What would I say to my new husband, Bill, with this brand new car that was wrecked? I could hear my black poodle, Mike, whining in the upside-down car. I could hardly breathe, I was disoriented. What was next?
“I thought we’d be picking out a casket,” my husband said when he arrived at the scene. Thankfully, the ambulance left empty.
After a day or so, we began to look at that accident as a miracle from God. Only the night before, my husband had installed a roll bar to protect the driver and passenger from serious injury if the car overturned onto its soft roadster top.
That accident happened more than 50 years ago. My husband, Bill Rudberg, has passed away; but in that first year of marriage, we were reminded us how quickly things can change. We were so grateful Bill took the time to put that roll bar in!
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