It was 1955 and we were living in Pittsburgh, PA, when I had my first car accident at the tender age of five. No I did not have a driver's license or apparently many lessons on driving my little toy car.

My mother was hanging out clothes on the clothesline provided at the mobile home park, when I decided to make my rounds in my car. I was sure I had room to drive around the pole for the clothesline nearest the creek. I was wrong! As I attempted the feat, the earth gave way between the pole and edge of the creek. At age five, not sure how deep the creek, but it seemed oh so deep to me. I recall landing in the nearly dry creek on my back. I did not have time for any pain to register from the rocks pressing into my back, before the twenty pound of toy car came crashing down upon my left arm. Even then there was no memory of pain, maybe I have blanked it out.

I know my mother was in more of a panic than I. I felt a strange sensation pulsating from what was suppose to be my left arm. It did not feel like an arm and was shaped oddly. It was all I could do to get out of the ditch even with my mother's help. She got a neighbor to drive us the emergency room as she cradled me and told me all would be alright. Mothers are such a comfort at all the right times.

The doctor was amazed that such a small toy could inflict such damage. The doctor figured the car landed on my arm with such force with the proper placement of the rocks under the arm to cause the double compound fracture. This was definitely going to hamper my summer time activity. Of course as in life let to be lived, I learned things even then could have been worse. Worse even from a five year old boy's perspective.

The day after my traumatic encounter with the bottom of the ditch and the nose of the car, I did find that life could be worse or much shorter than planned or hoped for by me. Overnight there had heavy rains north of the city, which caused the creek to swell to a torrid of an angry creek. It was threatening to crest its banks or overflow. Had my accident been the following day with the creek so high and the current so how, this non-swimmer would have been a distant memory to mom and dad.

I have been careful around all ditched large and small with or without cars ever since and thankfully have had no more broke arms or cars in any ditches. If I had I'm sure my mother would have pulled my license or some other state of control.

Learn more about this author, Larry Atwell.
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