Gravel RoadPosted: 1, 19 December , 2014
Nineteen sixty one, my sister fell out of a 49 Chrysler Windsor on a gravel road in Iowa.
We don’t know how the door came open, but she sat in the middle of the road crying and bleeding until Dad and Uncle Howard finished their beers and noticed her gone.
Her blood had soaked Dad’s white shirt by the time we got her to Doc Felter. He stopped the bleeding and cleaned her up and picked some of the gravel out of her head. Otherwise she was OK.
Years later she worked for a plastic surgeon who finished removing the rocks from her head and, at the same time, gave her a discounted boob job.