When life hits you life hits you a freight train.

At the ripe young age of 19 In the spring of 1985, I had found myself juggling jobs work at a landscaping company while also placing posters for KC diesel driving school. It was typical of the season, overcast and raining, as I drove to work in my 1973 Buick Opal, a car comparable in size to a Datsun B210 - notably compact. That morning, upon arrival, we were promptly told that the rain had made work impossible for the day.

So, I decided to utilize the time to distribute posters around local businesses, a task that paid $.75 for each poster placed. On a good day, one could make as much as $75, a decent sum for the effort involved. I headed back home to gather the posters, driving along Valleyview Road. This wasn't just any road. Its history was tinged with rumors of devil worshipers dwelling up on the hill, a place where as a child, I heard many unsettling tales. However, my focus was on the day's task as I journeyed down the gravel road, approaching the railroad tracks known for its solitary warning bell. As I reached the clearing where the tracks lay, my attention was drawn to the left by the imminent arrival of a Santa Fe railroad train barreling in my direction. In a frantic attempt to stop, I slammed on the brakes, skidding to a halt squarely on the tracks. The adrenaline surged as I realized my predicament; stuck in third gear, I scrambled to shift down. As my wheels spun desperately, the train's snow blade collided with my car just behind the driver's seat, violently tossing my vehicle off the tracks.

The aftermath was a blur. It wasn't until days later, when retrieving my car, that I fully grasped the severity of the incident – my head had struck the windshield, catapulting me into the passenger seat. Miraculously, I emerged relatively unscathed, walking away from what could have been a fatal accident. In a daze, I made my way to a nearby farmhouse to call my mother, while the train conductor, stopping to ensure no harm had come to me, was probably as shocked as I was that I had escaped.Reflecting on this event, I cannot help but acknowledge the divine intervention I experienced. Just two weeks prior, I had embraced faith, accepting Jesus Christ as my personal Lord and Savior. Looking back, I firmly believe angels were watching over me that day. That harrowing experience served as a powerful reminder of the fragility of life – a reminder that moments of distraction can lead to unforeseen paths, and sometimes, those detours are literal. I walked away with not only my life but with an enriched appreciation for every day granted to me.

Following the accident, an unexpected turn of events unfolded. The train company, in recognizing the potential fault on their part for the minimal warning at the crossing – merely a bell – offered me $1,000. This gesture was perhaps an acknowledgment of what could have escalated into a legal challenge. Despite suggestions that I could have pursued a large suit against the railroad, potentially citing their negligence, I chose a different path. The idea of accumulating doctor's bills and claiming injuries that were not genuine did not sit well with my conscience.I know that we are here for a reason and God had a plan for all of us.

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