N.Z. time
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
1:47 p.m.
That summer my mom loaded me into her newly purchased 1934 Ford coupe and off we went to visit an auntie I had never met. Aunt Teddy. She, her husband Bob and their daughter Sharon lived in Phoenix, Arizona. So off we went across the desert heading east on I-10. In those days I-10 was just a narrow little two lane black top highway. We were flying along about 55 or 60 miles an hour. We were laughing and singing “She’ll be coming around the mountain when she comes”, it was wonderful, just me and my mom, off on a great adventure. As we were singing the door handle caught my eye, and I couldn’t remember if I’d locked the door when we left home?
So still singing away I reached up to lock the door. The 1934 Fords had doors which would later be called suicide doors because they opened from the front. Not knowing which way to turn the handle to lock the door or open it, I inadvertently turned it the wrong way and opened it. At 55-60 miles an hour the wind caught the edge of the door and before I could let go of the handle I was instantly sucked out of the car, Zap…… Right in the middle of “we’ll all have chicken and dumplings when she comes”. I was air borne, then I remember whamady smack bam, roughfuldy scruffeling dirt dust and gravel, tumbling, flippitty flopping, until I finally came to a complete stop. And when I sat up I was so dizzy I looked the wrong way for my mother’s car, I was looking back along the road we’d just come over and there wasn’t a car in sight. I thought my mom had driven off and left me behind, so feeling abandoned I just sat there and burst into tears, mommy, mommy, I was crying, then coming from behind me, I heard her voice screaming my name. Barry, Barry, are you all right? Are you OK? Her arms were around me, she was cuddling me, holding me close with my bleeding head on her breast. Oh Barry, Barry, oh God, Barry, Barry.
Across the highway a big 18 wheeler had pulled off the road and the driver, having seen what happened, came running to my mother’s side to offer whatever assistance he could. Seeing all the blood, he ran back to his truck and brought my mom a big package of diapers. He told her he and his wife had just had a baby and he had purchased a whole big box full of diapers he’d found on sale back in Phoenix. So wrapping my head in baby diapers to soak up the blood and to try and stop further bleeding, he helped her get me back in her car and off she drove to the closest town with a hospital. That was Wickenburg, Arizona, about 90 miles away. I was all numb and actually quite comfortably wrapped up in diapers and blankets, propped up on a big pillow. I kept drifting off to sleep. My mom would keep waking me up, “Barry, Barry are you OK?” “Yes mother I’m OK, why do you keep waking me up?” “I just want to make sure you’re all right dear, you try and stay awake now, we’re almost there”. It took her nearly two hours to get to Wickenburg and find the hospital. Two hours of her not knowing how badly I was hurt, not knowing if I was going to live or die. When she finally placed me into the outstretched arms of a doctor, she collapsed on the E.R. floor. Then I started crying again, pleading with the doctors “help my mother, please help my mother.” I thought something bad had happened to her, the way she was just laying there on the cold tile floor. They did put a pillow under her head and threw a blanket over her saying to me “your Mother’s just fine son, let’s just see if we can get you patched up.”
The next day we were in Phoenix at Aunt Teddy’s house. It was a sunny summer day and I was bandaged from stem to stern, not only did I have 58 stiches in my head but nearly 20% of my body looked like oozing hamburger meat, my motorcycle riding friends call it pavement rash. I remember playing out in the front yard, riding Sharon’s tricycle, and I couldn’t figure out why my muscles and joints were so stiff. Little kids have no yesterdays or tomorrows; they only live in the eternal now. A lesson I would learn later on in my life that would set me free.
The memories continue, so I’ll be back …… (Maybe)
B Mc G
Recent Comments