On feb 23, 1974 I was 18 yrs old.
My parents and I had just left church, a rare occasion where
I  had been allowed/asked to drive.
I pulled out of the parking spot, went the correct direction
(it was a VERY small rural community in S Ga.) uphill for
about 30 yds, left about 40 ysa, left again to the caution light
at the bottom of the hill.
IT was red coming and going:
of course I knew this; it was basically my hometown.
I looked to my right... nothing
I looked to the left;
a car was just passing, another a mile or more to my west
I pulled out
Milliseconds had passed, but another driver and his (Pregnant)
wife, young son and a baby had come barreling ass over the hill to
my right.
Daddy, who was looking to our right, said "Look out!" my reaction
Was to floor it. I remember my instinctual thought was

GET OUT OF THERE

so I floored it.
The oncoming car "Tee Boned" us from my right.
My Daddy, who was of course on the impact side (mama
riding "bitch" as it was called back then) took the brunt
Of the impact full on. Broke all of his ribs and pelvis.
He was hit so hard the whole seat was moved to the left; he broke mama's pelvis and 3 ribs.
My door popped open, I fell out and scraped my elbow.

In one fell swoop, my life eternally changed.

My Daddy died 3 wks, 3 days later, the whole time spent in
ICU, on a ventilator.
He kept trying to say something to us,
Mimicking writing on something (since he couldn't speak)
But when we gave him anything to write with, what he
Wrote was gibberish.
I'm the youngest of 10 (TEN) children.
I'm 64.
Figure out how long I've carried the guilt of my Father's
Death.
You can endure.