by Donna Swagerty Shreve
While working as a truck driver in 1986, Mack, my brother-in-law, had a tragic accident. I remember the phone call quite clearly. Mack called and asked if I was standing. As the phone was attached to the wall, the usual position when answering the phone was standing. He insisted that I sit before he proceeded with his call. I had been busy getting ready for Halloween. Our children would be wanting to go trick-or-treating and there would people at our door soon.
Once Mack was assured I was sitting, he said he had just killed someone. I asked where he was as I envisioned him calling from jail. He was at home and would not be charged by the police. He was driving near Napa and came up to a busy intersection. The traffic lights were out so all traffic had to stop and treat the intersection as a four way stop. Unfortunately a 77 year old woman did not stop and she drove right through the intersection without any regard for the traffic around her. Mack had already entered the intersection and she ran right into his huge big rig. The force of the impact sent her flying through her windshield onto the highway when she landed minus most of her clothing as her clothing along with her shoes were pulled from her as she was ejected.
Mack stopped and got out of his truck and went to help if possible. When he arrived, to where the woman was sprawled on the street, it was evident that she was beyond help by any human. Authorities arrived and assessed the tragic accident, took away the victim and released Mack. If I remember correctly Mack called his employer and they sent another driver to the scene to remove his truck. Mack was quite shaken and never returned to truck driving.
To add to his day, Mack came over to our home to talk out his drama with John, his older brother. John had dressed as the grim reaper and had a Bach heavy organ fugue played by E.Power Biggs to add to the creepy atmosphere for when he opened the door to hand out candy. I left with the kids to trick-or-treat in the neighborhood with John rocking in our rocker as the grim reaper and Mack on the sofa telling his tale.
With obvious Halloween interruptions every few minutes from trick-or-treaters, I doubt Mack got the support he needed from his brother. By the time the kids and I returned from our neighborhood jaunt, Mack was spent. He soon gave up his apartment as he no longer was employed and moved in with us. He became what he called our “house boy” and did all of our dishes and mopped our floors. It was less than ideal and he lasted about a year before he moved on to live with his younger brother. When that living situation became untenable, he moved back in with his parents in El Paso. Each sibling had housed him at some point but I think we win the prize for witnessing his worst Halloween.
532 words
10/2/2021
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