Taking a look back in time. I would say it was 1969 or somewhere about. We had an ice coating on the snow and it was hard as a rock. My neighbors house was on a hill behind our house with a long driveway. I remember that morning to some extent. The neighbor kids and I would go to the top of the driveway and stand on the top of the snow and would skate all the way to the highway on our leather shoes. The bottoms of the shoes were smooth with no tread so a kid really could pick up some speed going down that hill. The real challenge was trying to stop when you reached the bottom. The school bus was on the way down the street to pick up us kids. I thought I could get one more trip down the hill before the bus stopped at our pick up. The school bus stopped and I could hear the brakes squeaking. I had to get going now. I started moving at quite a fast rate and was almost to the bottom, but was curving toward the driveway. I didn’t make it. I fell into the gravel driveway and landed on a rock. The rock split my knee, wide open, and blood was splattering all over the place. I yelled and the other kids were too concerned about making it to school. The bus driver was probably concerned with getting the other kids to school on time so he took off and left me there. I screamed so loud and no one was there. I crawled all the way back to my parents house, which wasn’t really that far. I screamed again and my mother heard me. She brought me into the house and when I pulled up the pant leg my mother almost passed out. I was cut right down to the knee cap and you could see the bone. I was brought to the doctors and stitched up. I still think today of why did that bus driver leave me there bleeding and screaming. Memories, some of the stuff I did as a kid. Phew, I’m lucky to be alive.