March 1st. Today.
Reflecting back. March 1, 1961. It was my senior year in dental school at Iowa.
Our VW had run out of gas along the side of the road. A friend had taken us to the gas station for a canister of gas. He parked in back of the VW and he and baby Kurt and my wife, Jeanette, with Mark in the oven, all moved up to the VW while I was pouring gas into the forward gas tank of a VW bug with the hood opened.
I awoke the next morning in the hospital with a spider of tubes spinning out of me and an elevated left leg in a full cast and a monstrous head ache.
I asked the nurse what had happened and she brought me the morning paper with pictures and the story of the accident. Apparently a drunk smashed into our friend's car from the rear at high speed which then forced the two cars into the VW and the hood jack knifed me 30 feet through the air and I landed on a bed of dirt, next to the concrete highway, below signs and soaked in gas.
God reduced the carnage that could have happened to any of us and He wanted me to treat patients from the federal prison system and from Colorado.