It was the Fourth of July and this member of Crystal Lake Kiwanis had been up late the night before counting money for the Crystal Lake Gala.
The Kiwanians pretty much closed the place down. We were the money counters.
Certainly there was no bus to take us to the remote lots where we had parked.
Our family decided to leave on vacation the morning of Independence Day. I was happy to have my wife drive while I tried to catch some shuteye.
It was more crowded on the toll road to I-39 than I had expected. There was even a traffic jam at the Belvidere Oasis parking lot.
There were lot of police cars in Illinois.
Both were relatively near the Mississippi River, “relative” being relative to the five hours that we had been driving.
Then it was on to the Mississippi River bridge we almost always take through or, more precisely, over Downtown St. Louis.
The river had been a flood stage, so I wanted some pictures, as you can well imagine.
Traffic inched along like it was rush hour.
Then we saw the right hand lane was closed on the Missouri side. The traffic was barely moving.
My wife pulled over to the next lane and the next thing we heard and and felt was
We agreed to pull off at the first exit, which just happened to be the street nearest the St. Louis Arch.
He was more worried that he would get a moving violation as a result of the crash.
It took so long for the St. Louis Police officers to come that we got to know the trucker a bit better than one might expect and see the sights. He had had a real accident going home one very rainy day and had taken out 150 feet of guard rail avoiding a worst accident.
My wife jokingly asked if he hit us because of the McCain for President bumper sticker.
In any event, we went over the Mississippi River bridge and though the Ozark Mountains to little sister Ellen’s home in Joplin, Missouri, without further incident.
We didn’t dare open the trunk until we got there.
When we did, we found not even the wine bottle had broken inside.