One of the most challenging things I remember about being a teenager was the pressure not to disappoint my parents and family. Not that they were overbearing, or constantly “on me” telling me what to do or not do. Quite the opposite in fact—they were quite “chill.” But I knew what they expected of me, and if I ever failed to meet their expectations, I felt terrible. Being the human being that I am, there were times I messed up and messed up badly.
As a teen, it seemed that a lot of my mistakes involved automobiles. Perhaps this is no surprise, as working on our cars to make them perform better was a long-standing family tradition. Working over engines to make more power, changing suspension components to improve handling and swapping parts from one car to another were a part of virtually every weekend as long as I can remember.
It was only a matter of time
My first car accident occurred when I was 17. I was on my way to a wood cutting party that was part of a church fundraiser. I wasn’t going particularly fast, but it was a cold morning, and in the shade of one particular curve there was a little frost on the road. Not much, but enough to put my car into the ditch and require the use of a tow truck to get it home. (See Exhibit A below.)