When I was 4 years and 3 months old. . .

. . . my father died.

He went to work one morning, bright and full of smiles and never returned. Of course I don’t remember much but I do remember a few things. I remember going to the funeral home the day before the service. I remember being offered a toy by my family so I would stay home, but that I refused. I wanted to see my daddy.

But yesterday we were sitting around and talking, my friends and I and I remember one incident that stands out.

Remember this is a 4 year old memory, which could be off by miles. There is no one to ask about the story, but this is how I remember it.

I went on the truck one day with my father. He had a new Ford truck that might have had 115 hp. It had a single drive (truckers jargon here -- it had one axle at the back of the truck) and probably had a tandem semi (two axled trailer where the front of the trailer was attached to the back of the Ford truck, via 5th wheel).

This day that I remember we had loaded (no memory on that one) and were driving along a river or lake on the way back to the mill. The road was very narrow.

There was a truck parked and blocking the road. There was no evidence of what happened to the driver, but the truck was there and no one could get on.

Several trucks were blocked by this abandoned rig. The drivers congregated to discuss the matter. I remember that the discussion included ways to push the truck off the road and roll it into the canyon so the others could get by.

My memory is that about the time they were ready to do something (not necessarily the roll trick) the driver showed up and drove on.

Not much of a memory. No one else was there, so it can’t be enhanced by others telling me about it. Probably not accurate, but it is my story. I think about it once in a while. It relates back to that story about the black VWup, and how we do things on the spur of the moment.

Whether the men’s actual intention was to destroy some one else’s livelihood or not, I cannot be sure, but none of us know what we might do if we were pushed enough I guess.

One of my grandfathers was killed in a car crash. His brakes went out on a long downhill run. He should have put the car in the ditch when it was going slow, but he did not, thinking he could ride it out.

He made his best call, a fatal one, and went ahead.

Those three stores bang around in my head in various incarnations sometimes. I am not exactly sure what to make of them, except to not judge others when they do something on the spur of the moment that proves to be wrong.

None of us will ever know exactly how we will react until the time comes, and usually it does not.

Thankfully.