This happened to my father long before I was born. Back in the late thirties, times were hard. A lot of people were out of work, and money was tight. My dad was working, but barely enough to keep a roof over his head and my mother and older brother. He had an old car that he kept running with spit, glue, bailing wire and a prayer. The body was old and rusted, but it got him back and forth to work.
One day while driving through town, Dad stopped for a stop light and the right rear passenger door fell off the car. Dad got out and picked it up. A friend stopped next to him and asked. " Lyle, did you have a wreck? "
" No Harry, " Dad said as he tossed the door into the back seat. " I'm driving one. "
That epitomizes my father's spirit. He was able to tell everything with a clear view. He spoke out truthfully about what he felt. Us kids all inherited that facet of his personality. Sometimes it was difficult for us, because so many people don't want to know the truth about what's blatantly in front of them.
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