My father worked on the docks of Schenley Distilleries in Lawrenceburg, Indiana. He would drive there from our small farm which was close to East Enterprise which was 15 minutes away from Vevay. He did this for over 30 years.
One snowy afternoon in the 1960’s, we were waiting for my father to come home from work. We figured he would probably be late because of all the snow we had that day, but we knew his car would pull into the driveway sooner or later. I mean, he always came home, but on that day, he didn’t.
There were no cell phones back then and if he was stuck on the road or in an accident, we would have to wait for someone else to call or to come tell us. My mother was scared but she wouldn’t say it. I was scared too. I wouldn’t say it either.
Hours went by. I remember standing at our screen door most of that night looking to my right and for my father’s headlights. That’s the direction my father’s car would be coming. I would feel upset and sometimes would cry when those lights belonged to another car besides my father’s.
I was standing at that screen door at six o’clock the next morning when I finally saw more headlights. A lump came to my throat. It was my father’s car. He had gotten stuck behind a bad accident coming home but he was now home and my world was safe and secure again.
I haven’t thought of this in over 50 years, but I did today.
(Photo from topix.com)