1949 Chevrolet Before Accident my dad, me, and my mother in car
Today, December 25, 2010 our family gathered at the home of our son and daughter-in-law, Jim and Sherry Weaver. It was a wonderful day and we had a good time eating and exchanging presents. Everyone was there and it was good to share Christmas in the bosom of our family. May we have many more like it. Last night on Christmas eve, we were all at the Lancaster Church of the Brethren for a service of Lessons and Carols. My daughter Ellen and I both sang in the choir. Ellen sang in a trio with an oboeist. They did the song, "This is My Dancing Day."
Let me tell you about a Christmas that was not very good. It was exactly 60 years ago in 1950. Before I tell my story, let me share with you what my father wrote in his autobiography. I quote:
On Christmas Eve of 1950, Jay had a misfortune. He had started driving the year before and this evening while driving in a procession of Christmas Carolers of the young people of our church, he ran into the rear of the car in front of him. Our "new" Chevy was badly smashed. He felt terrible and I was "sick". It was not a pleasant Christmas. We had a fifty-dollar deductible collision policy and Jay agreed to pay that penalty. The car was repaired like new.
The carolers from our church would sing at the home of sick and elderly members of our church. We would drive cars from one place to another. I was so excited about being able to drive in this year's carol sing. I had my sister and four other friends in the car. There was a long line of cars driving from one place to another. I was well back in the line and driving behind a friend of mine. The cars slowed to go around a corner. I was fascinated watching the cars that had already rounded it. I didn't notice that the car in front of me had stopped.
I slammed on the brakes, but it was too late. The front end of my dad's car went down and under Donnie Stover's rear bumper. He had very little damage, but the whole front end of our car was smashed back to the motor. Someone took my sister and me home, but I sure hated to walk in that door. It was the middle of the night and I knew I had to wake Dad and tell him. This 1949 Fleetline Chevrolet was the first new car my dad had ever owned and I smashed it up. I learned a hard lesson that night. It wasn't the last accident I was in, but it was the last one that was my fault.
Like Dad said, I paid t he $50.00 deductible over a long period of time. He did let me drive his car again. In fact, I didn't get a car of my own until three years later when I bought a 1948 Ford. I was a Ford man for a lot of years. I now drive a Toyota. Sixty more Christmases have come and gone, but that one is the most memorable. I felt guilty for many years about smashing up my dad's new car.
