Life 103

Thursday, March 01, 2007


My hands were still shaking when we got home tonight. We’d just dropped my car off in Mac for repairs and were driving the back roads home when we ended up behind a red Ford Taurus, Oregon license XMT 490, that was using the double yellow as a sight line. When he (or she) wasn’t in the center of the road, he was off the pavement on either side. When he turned toward town on North Valley Road we decided to call the police and Newberg’s finest stood ready for him to cross the city limits. Unfortunately, he crossed College onto Bell Road instead and after he passed Zimri Drive they transferred me to the county Sheriff’s department.

Just past my parent’s house, he missed the first sharp turn and went off the road on the left. Going too slow to do any damage, he corrected enough to start up the curves on the wrong side of the road. Winding slowly up Chehalem Mountain, sometimes at 20 miles an hour, we watched as he crossed the line multiple times, stopped in the middle of the road to let an oncoming car pass, and miss the T at Mt. Top and Bell, correcting enough to get back onto Bell in the wrong lane.

He turned off Bell at the food-processing plant in the dip just before the Washington County line. Unfortunately there were no deputies in the vicinity. We found a place to turn around, relayed the address to the dispatcher as we passed it on our way back and headed home – past my parents house, where they sat safe and sound in the front room reading, and eventually into our own driveway where our kids, thank God, were snug as bugs.

I can't tell you how many times I've come barreling down Bell Road. My cousins lived at the top and before we could drive, we rode our bikes back and forth. When Steve is driving, I can picture our exact location with my eyes closed just from the feel of each turn, rise and dip. This guy has messed with my world and I resent it.


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