When I was a young teen, one of the characters in a pulp novel I read instructed another character to drive toward the wreck because, by the time he got there, it would have moved.
That lesson must have stayed with me because 40 years later, as I was driving my Astro van 60 mph on Interstate 5, a 5' x 5' x 5' chunk of machined steel fell from a flatbed semi. My instinct was to slam on the brakes while swerving to the left. Nevertheless, in an instant, the words of the book came to me as if I had read them that morning. The chunk was bouncing around about 100 feet in front of me. I held my course and continued traveling straight for it. A second later, it was behind me. I was amazed and probably,
however, I didn't
my pants. The whole incident only took about two seconds.
That lesson must have stayed with me because 40 years later, as I was driving my Astro van 60 mph on Interstate 5, a 5' x 5' x 5' chunk of machined steel fell from a flatbed semi. My instinct was to slam on the brakes while swerving to the left. Nevertheless, in an instant, the words of the book came to me as if I had read them that morning. The chunk was bouncing around about 100 feet in front of me. I held my course and continued traveling straight for it. A second later, it was behind me. I was amazed and probably,