The year was 1971 (President's Day Weekend). I was pulling into Paris (TN) and the stuff started falling out of the sky. It was about noon; the roads were starting to get slick, and a 16-year-old boy is heading right at me doing all kinds of swirlies. Yep, I wind up in a ditch...

Anyway, it iced over that night and I took a room in town. What I thought was going to turn out to be a nightmare, turned out to be just fine. Got to eat at Redmunds Bar-B-Q and drink Green Jack with the boys in back of Westwood Radiator Shop.

Next morning the whole county closed down. I had to get up to Clarksville to pick up my brand new radiator for my one-month-old car.

A woman went off the bridge the night before (she died). Roads finally opened; my radiator was waiting for me (Greyhound), and I headed east on the interstate that night where I saw at least three rigs half way up the pine from the night before.

Talk about neighborly folk (Paris and Cottage Grove); none better. All they were concerned about was getting me on my way, safely.

JB