A Father’s Day to remember
/
Father’s Day weekend in 1989
was one of the best. I spent it in Chicago with college friends doing what kids
two years out of college do: Cubs game, parties, walking along Lake Michigan,
bars, restaurants, etc. I made it home to KCI in time to make it to a work
reception at Crown Center that Sunday night.
The work reception included
twenty people from around the country who had travelled here for a summit on
the new division of Sprint we were developing. The
reception went really well. People were nice, energy was high, and everyone was
gearing up for a full week of meetings. We were talking, eating, drinking, and
getting to know each other. I declined offers of alcoholic beverages (since I’d
had my fair share over the weekend) and stuck with water.
Unfortunately the driver of
the brand new Ford Eagle did not do the same at his event.
As I left Crown Center on that
rainy night, the Eagle sped over the hill and ran directly into me. I remember
spinning around the intersection praying, “Please don’t let me hit those cars at
the stoplight!” Once I saw the power pole, the prayer became, “Please let me
avoid the power pole!” The people and pole were safe, but I sat stuck in my car
in the middle of Main Street.
It was obvious the other
driver was drunk, or rather, on drugs, because immediately after my car stopped
spinning, one of his buddies ran to my car to see if I had any drugs for him to
hide. Upon hearing my negative answer, the buddy ran around the corner of a
building to hide whatever they had in their car.
After the buddy ran away, one
of my coworkers came to my aid. Karla recognized my 1984 Citation in the middle
of the road as she left Crown Center. Karla stayed with me until my dad came to
the hospital. Luckily, the injuries were relatively minor considering there was
no driver’s seat left. Hip, back, shoulder, head—all aches and pains but nothing
broken.
Since there were
no broken bones, and I was adamant about preparing for the work summit, the
hospital let me leave. It was about 1:00am when my dad drove me away from the
hospital. He drove me to my apartment to gather clothes for the week, then he
drove me to work to gather materials needed for the summit. The next day, he
drove me to Crown Center and waited until my part in the meeting was completed,
then he drove me back to my parents' home. He did the same thing every day that
week.
June 11, 1989 comes to mind
often for a few reasons.
One, the pain and the hassle
caused by the crash, obviously. Two, it is annoying to be a victim of a
drunk/drugged driver. He apologized after court a month or so later, but it
still chaps my hide that something so unnecessary happened. Three, and most
importantly, it was Father’s Day and I had not seen my dad that weekend until he
arrived at the hospital. Instead of being home having a burger with my dad, I
spent the weekend with friends. But, when I needed my dad, he was there for me,
even in the middle of the night on Father’s Day.
As you get ready for Father’s
Day weekend, I hope your fond memories of your dad bring you much
joy. Dads are there without
fanfare, and you never know when one minor incident will stick with
someone.
Happy Father’s Day to all of
the MRIGlobal dads, granddads, stepdads, people who fill in as dads, and moms
who wear the dad hats!
Let's all have a memorable weekend but not as memorable as the one from
1989.
