On the way to work a couple of weeks ago I pulled into the local Crackerbox to fuel up the Blazer.
Unscrewing the cap on the gas tank, I glanced up directly into the eyes of a friend I hadn't seen in nearly 20 years...the younger brother of a high-school classmate...son of a local farmer. Every member of his family are real "salt-of-the-earth" types...hard working...generous. You are all familiar with the type.
We stood at the pumps and visited for nearly 10 minutes...all that our busy schedules would allow...and discussed our families and our lives. Haven't enjoyed that type of conversation in a long time.
Last week, while attending an out-of-town workshop, I made a honey-dew phone call to my wife.
She told me he was dead. Killed in a car wreck on highway 425 south of Monticello...near a small rural community called Fountain Hill. A young mother with two children in her vehicle pulled into his path from a side road. He whipped to the side of the road to keep from t-boning them. She hit his vehicle on the driver's side, knocking him into a deep roadside ditch. According to authorities, there were indications he was trying to bring his truck back under control, but to no avail. It overturned, throwing him from the vehicle.
Eight people have been killed along a 15 mile stretch of that highway within the last three years. Highway 425 may be the deadliest two lane highway in the nation...at least in my opinion. If any of you happen to be traveling through this area, watch out for it. People drive like idiots through this stretch for some reason.
