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Thank God, you're alright," my husband said when I casually answered my cell phone.

The day rolled along just like every Wednesday had over the past 8 weeks. I ran errands and worked in my home office for a few hours, and at 3:00 p.m. I grabbed my laptop and headed off to my writing class in downtown Minneapolis. Normally, a drive into the city would take about 15 minutes, but because of construction on the 35W bridge that stretched over the Mississippi River, I needed to allow some extra time.

My drive was was the same as usual. Traffic moved along at a speedy clip but was later reduced to 45 miles per and shrank to two lanes in both directions due to bridge construction. Because it was later in the day, traffic generally never moved faster than about 35 miles per hour which tested my patience. That day, cars seemed to be moving particularly slowly on the bridge, but it allowed me to gaze over its railings to survey the lofty drop to the water below.

After crossing the bridge, I exited onto Washington Avenue and made my way to the parking lot for class. I realized that lots were jammed due to a Twins baseball game at the Metrodome so I parked a few blocks away from the school and deposited just enough quarters into the meter to see me through the two-hours without a hefty parking ticket. Since it was our last afternoon of class, it lasted a bit longer. I contemplated buying a cookie at the coffee shop on the main level of the building, but opted to forego the extra calories and walked back to my car.

Traffic was is unusually heavy on Washington Avenue during rush hour, and it was tricky maneuvering my car on to the busy road. Once I got onto Washington, I waited through 4-5 stop lights, each one seemingly longer than the next, and had to stop abruptly for a throng of baseball fans that stepped in front of my car as they hurried to the game, but finally made my way to the north 35W entrance ramp.

Once on the freeway, traffic stopped again. The right two lanes were closed, filled with construction equipment, trucks, and workers-a scene that had become quite normal on this route over past months. Cars snaked in and out of traffic, moving along slowly in both the northbound and southbound lanes. To my right there was what appeared to be a fragile "tape" railing attached to dusty posts intended "protect" the workers from moving traffic and wayward drivers. The day had been average.

I had decided to make a quick stop on the way home and that's when I received the call

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