I didn’t do much that was creative today, other than playing the kinds of memory games that families play while driving on the road. We went to Loveland to pick up my sister and brother-in-law, then went to Estes Park and Rocky Mountain National Park. For me, the whole day was fun, but tainted by one thing that occurred on I-25 near Longmont.
We were driving northbound, keeping with traffic flow, when brake lights flashed on all the cars in front of me. I was keeping a safe following distance, so I was able to slow down in time, but a Chrysler two cars ahead of me only had enough time to swerve into the median. He did so, creating a cloud of dust and dry grass, but he kept the car under control and brought it to a stop. The rest of the cars on the highway continued forward slowly.
About a mile up the road, we found the reason for the immediate stop. Evidently a southbound pickup had been hit from behind, rolled across the median, and came to rest in the northbound lanes of traffic. Police and rescue vehicles were just beginning to arrive at the scene, and as we inched by, I saw a small, brown hand sticking out from under a folded blanket on the burning asphalt. Someone’s Father’s Day will never be the same.