Crashing Miss Daisy

Crashing Miss Daisy

Written by David M. Muench

Automobile accidents aren't fun, especially when they happen to you or a loved one. But it's a common part of life. It's like taking your first compulsory Official Tumble from your bicycle promptly after your father removed the training wheels because he thought it would "build character." Heck, I've had a couple of fender benders

in the past. But my mishaps pale in comparison to the collision experienced by my mother; Sharon Kenievel.

"I think I'll go visit my daughter," fancied my Mom on a particularly nice summer day. She ambled into her Wally Wagon and proceeded to drive the short distance to her daughter Julie's house. Everything was going fine, until she reached Julie's neighborhood. Mom turned from the main street and onto a residential road. To this day it's still unclear what had averted "Ms. Kenievel's" attention from the road. It was either the radio or the climate controls. As the road began to curve, my mother's car, well, didn't. It stayed true to its course. In the path was a curb. Immediately beyond that; a large, brick mailbox.

The impact of the front wheels striking the curb caused her station wagon to vault into the air. It was comparable to the General Lee, an orange blur defying gravity with a rebel yell and a horn blaring the "Dixie" ditty. But it wasn't a '69 Dodge Charger, it was a brown '85 Dodge Aries station wagon. No mischievous Duke boy behind the wheel either, but my wide-eyed, aging mother. And the "rebel yell" was probably more of a guttural noise and a string of expletives that would have made Ozzy Osbourne blush.

Unfortunately for my mother, she didn't clear any obstacles and land safely on the other side like a scripted 80's television show. She struck the behemoth brick mailbox with a tremendous force - smashing the stanchion and sending the fragments skyward. The car came to a grinding halt in that resident's driveway, lying parallel to the street. The entire front end was ruined, the windshield had more cracks than a plumbers convention, and fluids poured inexorably from the irreparable vehicle.

Amazingly, amid the dust and debris, Mom suffered only a few bruises. Sure, I was terrified after learning about the accident, but my worry was quickly allayed when I found out her injuries were minor. Although her intense chagrin was the one scar that didn't quickly fade. And when that shame finally did wane, we all had a big laugh. Everything from "Dukes of Hazzard" to "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang" was mentioned.

And let me tell you this, if "Fear Factor" ever does a special "geriatric" show, my Mom will be there.