The phone rang at 3:30 AM.
My 19 year old said, "Dad, there's been an accident."
"Are you all right?"
"Is the truck all right?"
"Where are you?"
When I got there the police and ambulance were there. The officer asked questions about what happened and if drugs were involved. He took his word for it, even though police in this county have a reputation for hauling out the drug dogs even if you just failed to signal a turn.
The ambulance took my son's passengers to the emergency room and I took him.
They were all walking around. The girl had all the skin scraped off her chin, but was otherwise all right. The boy was all right.
My son needed seven stitches perpendicular across his eyebrow. His chest was cut and bruised from the seat belt, but there was nothing they could do for that.
The truck was totalled.
The truck was left to my wife and I by my father-in-law who died of leukemia in 1997. We had put around $3,000 of work into it--which was approximately the value of the truck--a month ago.
Goodbye second vehicle.
But my son is able to walk and talk and enjoy life.