An Anniversary

The big wreck was on October 6, 1985

Thirty years ago today I awoke to a cool, Minnesota fall morning, bright and crisp. Bob and I walked over to the Twin Cities Marathon as we always do, but we had a beautiful afternoon ahead of us and the Harley was beckoning. It looked like a great day for a ride in the country.

It was cold enough for me to wear a sky blue winter jacket and long underwear under my jeans. Clothing didn't have much "give" back then, so I felt a little stuffed into the layers I'd put on, but I was warm on the bike and the weather was oh-so-lovely for an autumn outing.

We were riding along happily, enjoying the sunny October Sunday afternoon. A vehicle made a perfect stop at the intersection of Woodlane Drive and Military Road and then, to my horror, the car began to cross Military Road in front of us. There is a stop sign for traffic on Military Road today, but then we had the so-called right of way and there was no way to avoid hitting the car. I thought to myself, "this is it", feeling no emotion, just resignation.

I hit Bob in front of me and then flew over the handlebars of the bike, maybe rolling a couple of times before ending up in a ditch across Woodlane Drive. Bob was lying in the road, unable to move, sure his leg was broken. Despite the confusion, he directed traffic from the ground until the police and ambulance arrived.

We were whisked away by ambulance to St Paul-Ramsey Medical Center, now Regions Hospital. Most of the rest of the day is a blur, except for my clear memory of so many people with us in the treatment room. Several of Bob's kids were there to hear the startling news of my pregnancy, which we had learned about only a few days before. The announcement eclipsed even the explanation of Bob's severely broken leg bones, tibia and fibula.

Surgery to repair the broken leg was something of a patch job and, in fact, the leg remained broken for several years following our accident. I broke a couple of toes and was black and blue from head to foot. The helmet I wore that day was ruined, but I kept it for a few years to remind me that our fate that day could have been much darker.

I was almost surprised that my pregnancy not only continued but was trouble free, though we were afraid to decorate a nursery or buy any baby clothes until very near my due date. Bob was on a cane when our son Chris was born at the end of May the following year. Several years later, the break in the tibia had not yet healed. Good advice from our brother-in-law, Dr. Ken Marshall, led us to the University of Minnesota Medical Center and Dr. Elizabeth Arendt, then a young orthopedic surgeon whom we got to know very well in the years that followed.

Dr. Arendt operated twice and engineered Bob's recovery and healing. He bought a few more Harleys before switching to a Virago and, finally, a couple of big Honda GoldWings. I didn't get back on a motorcycle for many years, but I enjoyed a few excursions until Bob quit riding a year or so ago. Each day, especially on October 6, I'm happy to wake up relatively healthy, very grateful for the gift of time and the three full lives that could have been lost on that long ago October day.