Colinw, I?m typing this into word, as I cannot presently get a reply into this discussion. Sometimes, there appear to be typos when I copy onto the FOG. Please excuse.
Excuse also my apparent attempt to upstage your story about being run over by a semi. As many here have discovered, I just have this nasty habit of being reminded of a story all too often when somebody very innocently makes a related remark. Believe me, I am very considerate of your own feelings and compassionate to your follow-up of pain. Most of us conversing in this conversation are sympathetic in like manner. I do hope for your eventual and complete repair.
It was the day after Thanksgiving in 1959. the reason I know the date (and exact time) will become apparent later on in this true tale.
I was 28 years young and nearly every holiday I spent back on the farm in Massachusetts where I had spent the most fomative and joyfull year of my youth many years before. By this time, I had bee living in Wilton, Connecticut since 1945 with exception of my two year vacation with Uncle Sam. I now had my own business as a mason contractor. With the festivities over, I felt I had to get back to Ridgefield and the fireplace job I was working on. I wanted to get my share of the work inside completed so I could get out of the builders way. It was pouring rain (nearly cloudburst proportions) and I did not really feel like going to work that day, but I talked myself into it.
By the time I got to Danbury, the rain had let up a little and I guess I thought if I stopped for a few minutes, I might get lucky and it would begin at a deluge once more. I might then be justified in turning back towards Clayton where there was more fun involved than working in such dreary weather.
Right where the tracks go now beside White Street, there used to be a little deli that served the greatest ice-cream cones. Whenever in the area, I would stop to replenish my taste buds. This was no exception.
I got my double decker cone and started across the street to my truck. There was a lot of traffic all of a sudden. I guess everybody just had to get out with the short letup in the rain. I got to the center line and had to wait for a letup in traffic before I could finish my traverse. As I waited, a large truck (a coca cola truck with those side racks ful of crates of bottles) stopped and motioned for me to cross.
Now, one of the very first things I was taught about crossing seets as a child was that you should not just runn without full view of the road. I guess, at 28, I considered myself beyond such admonitions and ran across in front of that large truck. I did not want to make the kind driver wait, as I knew he had a long and wet day ahead of him.
As I ran just past the front of that truck, I spotted another truck passing and preparing to make a right turn into the side street (A perfectly legal maneuver in this situation as it was four lanes and he was in the right turn lane) He was still moving at a pretty good clip and so was i. If I tried to stop, with all that water, I would have landed on my tail and ended up underneath the truck. My instincts snapped in and I knew I did not want be runover. I also did not care too much to have all my legs, arms and ribs broken. The solution was to get up in the air and over the hood of the truck (a pickup). I leaped directly at the truck but did not have time to clear the hood. The hood smashed into my pelvis and I went flying thru the air.
As I took off, I realized I still did not care too much about a second contact with that truck and had to get as far away as possible. I started spinning my body. As I was flying and spinning, I was also observing the pedestrians on the sidewalk. They were far more horrified than I. I was also watching that truck. As I landed, I just kept on rolling until I was use the truck had stopped rolling. I got to my feet and ran back to the truck, opening the passenger door. Those two guys were terrified and looked like ghosts. I am sure they thought I was looking for a fight of sorts.
I looked at them and asked quietly, ?Are you guys alright??
The poor driver had just been in this country from Italy for three days and he wondered if all Americans were this crazy. I was actually ok (physically) but had a very sore hip for a week or so after.
The driver has long since retired and his son has taken over his electrical business. My son occasionally works on jobs with the son (My son is an excavation contractor) and one day he asked if his father had ever mentioned that event. Just a few days before he had been telling the story to the family and he said he had not seen anything until all of a sudden, this guy was flying straight up into the air in front of him.
That is not the end of the story.
My wife is an immigrant (very legal) from Germany. I had calculated long before that this event had happened the day after Thanksgiving, 1959 at almost exactly 11:00AM. My (future) wife, first stepped foot off the gangplank from the SS United States onto the dock at New York City at 11:00 AM on the day after Thanksgiving in 1959. We never met for another 6 years, but I tell her that her first act in the new country was to kick me in the ass and I never came back down for six years.
She would kill me if she knew I had repeated this part one more time. I am hoping y?all keep it quiet for me
Colinw, I do hope your pain does not last nearly as long as the enjoyment I have had from my own ?run over by a truck? experience. We?ve been married for 42 years this month and still going strong.
Tinker
and that I had Carpal Tunnel just seemed like such a nothing thing that I had to laugh. 
So next I will probably be told that I have a hangnail as well. :
No slight meant to anyone who as Carpal Tunnel as it stinks and my Mom had it and had both of her hands operated on. Just for me it seems pretty minor right now. Fred
Fred
