March 29, 1980

My life essentially ended, and started, on the same day: March 29, 1980.  It was 11 days after my 9th birthday and 2 days before my dad's, "I-don't-know-unless-I-calculate-it" birthday.  I think he was probably turning 27 since he was 18 when I was born.  We were going to visit Mom's dad, Grandpa Heuer, in Muncie for our birthdays and I was excited!  Of course--what 9 year old isn't excited about presents and birthday cake??  I had on my favorite outfit of 1980--a red dress made of handkerchief material, and clogs.  Who explains to 9 year old girls to understand and to worry about fashion?  And why so young?  But, I was.  I don't specifically remember, but I'm sure my younger brother was bugging me as usual.  Isn't that what younger brothers are for?  He was only a year younger but still.

We all piled into the station wagon, my dad driving, mom in the front passenger seat, my brother behind my dad, and me behind mom.  Of course, this was before seatbelts were law.  Muncie, Indiana is about an hour's drive through mostly countryside, but a drive we had driven countless times before.  This day would be different and the last time we would ever drive that drive again.

I don't know the route we took to get there.  I don't care to know it now.  But somewhere in that countryside, we crossed a railroad track every time we visited Grandpa.  I don't know what happened that day.  I don't know what Dad was thinking.  I only know what I remember from the police report I read had said "...vehicle skidded 18 feet prior to train tracks..."..."vehicle was dragged...miles...before train came to complete stop...".  Eighteen feet?  That's not much.  There were no crossing arms or warning signals at the crossing.  But, we had driven the same route numerous times before.  Was my dad trying to beat the train?  Did he even see the train coming?  I think he didn't see it.  I think he saw it at 18 feet, and it was too late to stop.  I'll never know.  I refuse to investigate, because it won't bring him back.  It won't change the fate of my family from that day.

My dad was pronounced DOA at Ball Memorial Hospital in Muncie Indiana, where he, my mom, and I were taken.  My brother was taken via LifeLine helicopter to Methodist Hospital in Indianapolis Indiana with severe head injury.  My mom was immediately taken to surgery to repair internal injuries, including removal of her spleen.  I was taken via ambulance to Methodist Hospital in Indianapolis.  I have no clue why.  Insurance, perhaps??  I don't know.  My life ended, and restarted on that day.  Everything I know to be true started with everything that ended, and then started anew that day.  Much of who I am today is a direct result of what started with that deadly day.