Doodle Bugs:
Sometime in late Fall, 1976, Danny and I had a sweet little toddler girl, Stacy Lyne, and were expecting another bundle of joy sometime in December. We were living in Carrollton; I was working at Temple School, and Danny worked at Southwire.
Daddy had bought a 1972 VW Super Beetle for me to drive as a senior in high school, and after Danny and I married, he sold that car to us for me to drive. I’ve never known one day that Danny didn’t have a pickup truck that was his main get-around. He loved short-bed Chevrolet trucks and, no matter what our family car was, Danny drove a pickup.,
He was at work one day and, if I remember correctly, he was walking through the plant when he sustained a terrible injury to his knee stepping over a roll of cable. He stepped “wrong” causing his knee to twist and the cartilage to pop. Yes. It BROKE! Now, Danny was a masculine, fit, hardworking son of a gun, but from what I understand, he nearly cried from the excruciating pain this injury caused. I think anybody would have.
Fast forward to his having treatment, therapy, and finally a diagnosis resulting in a treatment plan including surgical repair to his lnee. In Anniston. Alabama.*
It had taken about 10 years to get I-20 finished from Highway 5 in Douglasville to Villa Rica. So when I drove to Anniston every day for 9 days, early in the morning until late at night most days, to stay with Danny during his recovery, I had to travel rough, curvy back roads.
Buggers:
One Sunday, I was really tired and told Danny I was going to go home early and get some rest. I left and was probably a quarter of the way to Bowdon, chomping at the bit to get home and lie down, not thinking twice about it when I drove up behind a creeping along junker.
There were few stretches of road allowing me to pass so when I had the opportunity, I moved to the left lane to go around them. I didn’t even realize what was happening when I saw black smoke billowing in the right lane that took me 20 seconds to drive out of, it was so thick. The man driving the jalopy had floored the gas pedal and left me wondering what the heck had just happened.
I didn’t care. He had sped up. I was six or seven months pregnant and just wanted to get home!
As soon as he was again in front of me, he slammed on the brakes and resumed the speed he had maintained before I tried to pass him.
We didn’t have cell phones in those days. There were no stores or anything but beautiful scenery until we got to Bowdon. That meant I couldn’t make a call from an outside pay phone at some store (which I wouldn’t have done anyway. I could handle this).
So off we were again. Me trailing behind this bugger who, just for spite, had kept me from passing. Well! My stubborn streak kicked in, and I thought, “Fine! Have it your way, big boy!”
From the moment things were as they were before this incident, I tailgated that car so close, I couldn’t even see the back end of that car. Just his back windshield.
This went on for a while when he finally slowed down even more, if you can believe it, at a passing lane and waved me around.
I wasn’t having it. He’d not get me in a position that he could shoot me or bang my car or whatever. On the other hand, I think the driver was afraid to stop because I obviously was unhinged 😁 and he didn’t know for sure whether I had a gun or not. (I did.)
It was a miserable, slow, agonizing crawl, but the second we got to Bowdon city limits, he pulled over. I drove around him just in time to see him tip his hat to me.
I’m guessing he never did that to a lone female driver again.
Let me say that, with the violence and uncertainty currently prevalent in our country, there is no way I would do the same thing if this situation happened today.
