Another
Valentine’s Day
By EDDE
Shucks!! it will soon be Valentine's Day 2022. On Valentine’s Day 1961 John F. Kennedy was in the White House and I was nine years old. I remember being struck by a hit and run drunk driver. I'm always reminded of that on February 14th my life turned a corner and for a split second I died.
“Have you seen my little brother Ralph”, I yell through the chain link fence to the pretty girl who lives next door. “He's riding a bicycle”,she says. “I saw him go that way” she points in the direction of Harmony Elementary School.
I am mad, Ralph and I must share that bicycle. It is after school; I am finished watching Superman on tv, I scurry outside expecting to see Ralph as it is my turn at the precious bicycle. My mother and father are at work, my sister Arvella is in the kitchen avoiding us. I go back inside slamming the screen door.
“Arvey, I'm going to look for Ralphie now it's my turn at the bicycle and he's gone again”, I scream.
“You better be careful, or we will all be in trouble with you know who when they get home” she hollers.
I shouted “OK” as I slam the door again as if I am embarking on the most important mission of my life. As it happens the journey is very dangerous.
I bolt down the steps. I am almost running, more like angrily stomping grapes, as I head northeast towards 23rd St in the direction of the school parking lot. Ralph and my bicycle are sure to be there. All the boys meet there to play games and to show off their bikes.
I approach the intersection and wait. My classmate Susie is standing across the street on the corner of 23rd and Main. Cars are whizzing by, and I try to yell to Susie about the missing brother and bicycle, but she could not hear me. I begin pacing and wondering when will I ever get my hands on that bike.
At last, the traffic slowed, I look to my left and then to my right and then to my left again as I had been taught at school. I start to race across the intersection when BAM! I am hit by a new black Thunderbird with a round side window.
I am struck on my right side and then flung as if I were a rag doll. Up and over, I flew above the T-Bird as the car races beneath me. I am up in the air about a second or two.
During that couple of seconds, I die. I see a long tunnel with a bright white beam at the end of it. On the sides of the very dark tunnel were grayish transparent faces passing me like a train passing trees on the way to the light.
I'm remembering the thought that I didn't want to return because this is such a joyful experience. And the faces are all talking and convincing me that I need to go back.
Suddenly I become conscious, and I am on the asphalt behind the vehicle. I look up and see that I am lying flat on my back, but my right foot is upside down and my leg is twisted around like a wrung-out wet rag.
The automobile is stopped but the engine is still running. I see a dark-haired man get out of the car and he staggers toward me. He bends over me smelling of beer just like my daddy. His name is Fred - I know because it is stitched on his shirt above the logo forJack’s Brewery.
My Daddy watches the evening news every day on tv. I would watch it too because in the commercials Jack’s Beer uses a mascot, a singing bunny named Jack. He would sing the theme song about the taste of Jack’s Beer.
Before the ambulance arrives, Fred teeters back to the Thunderbird, and he drives off leaving me alone in the middle of the road.
As I lay in the street. I feel no pain and I am cheerful and full of energy as the rescuers arrive. I did not cry until Susie shows up holding Arvella’s hand, they are both in tears. I then realize that I am in trouble because the folks are gonna be mad and the pain begins in earnest.
I don’t remember the ride to St Anthony’s hospital. I do remember being in the emergency room in excruciating pain and screaming in agony. As they are attempting to untwist my right leg, I am being held down by a nurse and I accidentally rip her uniform.
Are these faces the same faces from the tunnel attempting to help? My right femur is completely shattered. My mother arrives just as they were about to place a pin in my knee for traction. They hurriedly ask her, “Is he allergic to anything?” She immediately says “No” and they magically give me anesthesia. I am in a dream state.
I hover above the faces operating on me. I watch for a while then I float around the hospital seeing new babies being born and old folks being cared for until I awaken in a strange bed and a strange contraption. There is a pin through my knee and there are pulleys and wires – It all looks like bridges or scaffolding, and it effectively keeps my leg from any movement.
My first visitor is Mrs. Nance, my fourth-grade teacher. She comes to my bedside every day after teaching school, whether a hospital bed or my home bed. She even brings my classmates to my home to perform plays. She intends that I do not miss a year due to this accident.
My second visitor is of course my hardworking mother. She is raising four other children. She asks me, “what happened or what did you do wrong.” “I may have done wrong”, I told her, “I looked both ways as Mrs. Nance taught me in school but then this happened to me.” She then starts helping the nurses and they show her how to care for me including pain medicine, bed pans and bedridden hygiene.
My third visitor is my father. he smells of alcohol as usual and visits sporadically. He is very nice to all the hospital staff because he is a charmer. Except his family is afraid of him. He is a different person behind closed doors at home.
Over the course of the next year, I finish the 4th grade with the help of Mrs. Nance. I started the 5th grade late due to multiple hospital stays for breaking and re breaking my femur and finally getting a steel plate in the femur. Because I was wheelchair bound, Ralph and I had to change from Harmony Elementary to James K. Polk Elementary which had no stairs.
By the next Valentine's Day 1962 my father was gravely ill. He was in and out of hospitals and I was in a wheelchair. I was told that I would never walk again.
One day my sister Barbara bends my knee and I started to walk again. After she bends my right knee, I got up. I re-taught myself to walk with a limp then I taught myself to dance.
Around Valentine's Day 1963 my father dies, and my mother is devastated. After several years go by, I teach myself to ride a bicycle. Mrs. Nance taught me that anything is possible, and things work out for me.
