The rest of the story

 A friend, referencing yesterday's post, reminded me that I was in another accident that might have created a neck problem.  I don't think so but it was a rather spectacular accident so I thought I would tell you the whole story.  The year was 1965.  I was heading back to college after spending a weekend at home.  It was near the end of my college career, I had a teaching job waiting, and finals looming.  A month before, I had bought my first car ever, a 1961 Chevrolet Corvair for $800.  Yes, that's right, one of those infamous "unsafe at any speed" Corvairs that were know to turn turtle, as a friend told me after my accident.  Well, it did.  I was going around a curve on Highway 101, and was never sure exactly what happened but the next thing I knew I was sitting in my car in the middle of a corn field (harvested not standing stalks) facing back the way I had come, and looking at my windshield which was rocking gently on the ground about twenty feet in front of my car.  The car had rolled over and up on its wheels again.  My first thought was to wonder if I could drive it without a windshield.  Ironically or miraculously, depending on your point of view, I walked away from that crash with only a scratch on one knee because my ever cautious mother had sent me money two weeks before to have seat belts installed and I was wearing mine.  They were a fairly new idea and not standard.  Needless to say, I have been a firm believer in seat belts ever since.  I walked across the road to a farm house where a concerned lady let me use her phone to call home.  My father answered, I told him what had happened and he said "Are you ok?" I said yes and he said "That's all that matters."  You've got to love a dad like that.  He came to pick me up, loaded my books and a loom in his car and drove me to Ball State.  Later that day I had a physical, required to get my teaching license.  Out of curiosity I asked the nurse if my blood pressure was ok.  I explained about the accident and wondered if it might be a little high.  Actually it was low and after hearing my tale of auto woe she gave me a very thorough check up to make sure I was ok.  I was.  The car not so  much.  I was on my parents' insurance at that time so my father took care of the claim.  Since he had never had an accident in his life (he started driving when he was 12) he was upset when the agent said they would call it totaled and pay me $400.  That didn't seem fair to Dad so he asked what alternatives there were.  They said they could pay to fix it and he said "Fix it." so they did.  Total repairs cost almost $2,000.  I ended up with a 1961 car with a 1962 top.  I drove that car for six more years.  No more accidents.  With the engine in back it was a perfect car for navigating the snowy hills of upstate New York and good preparation for my next car, a VW bus.