After a wonderful few days in Ohio, we hit the road around noon on Monday. As neither of us has driven around the area for years, we got terribly lost trying to get to the interstate. Ended up WAY out of our way, stuck in little towns until we finally got headed in the right direction.
With a sigh of relief, we continued on.
Suddenly, a little old man came flying out of a parking lot and almost hit Dom’s Corvette. This was a freak-out.
OK….finally on I-271. Three lanes. We’re in the far left lane moving around 70 mph. We start into a right hand curve and suddenly there’s a line of traffic barrels in our lane. No sign. No warning. Just went around the curve and there they were… slowly shutting down our lane.
Meanwhile, two semis are next to us in the middle and right hand lane.
The truck next to us couldn’t move over.
We had MAYBE 4” on either side of the car…. Barrels on the left, big-ass truck on the right. 70 mph. This was like a nightmare.
We finally got to Bowling Green, KY after an 8 ½ hour drive. Tried to relax, and then talked about our adventure. We like to think that as we had stopped at All Souls Cemetery to visit Dom’s folks, they were watching out for us.
We arose early on Tuesday morning and hit the road. After I commented that we were so fortunate not to hit any rain, Dom told me “don’t say that….we’re not home yet”.
Miles went by. During the course of our conversation, I told him that after what we’d been through on Monday, I no longer expected him to drive up to Cincinnati to spend Christmas with my family every year. I told him that he was off the hook.
(Since our maw passed away, I’ve been flying up to brother Ric’s for Christmas and New Year’s…. Dom would drive up for a few days.) He was relieved, as was contemplating a bus-trip. Since 9/11, he won’t set foot on a plane.
So, we’re barreling through Kentucky and Tennessee without incident. When we finally get into our home state of Mississippi, I started fiddling with the radio.
We’re listening to a good oldie-rock station and notice a very threatening sky ahead. Dom shot me a glance about my bragging about the weather…ha ha).
Suddenly, the radio starts beeping and the National Weather Service cuts in. “A tornado has been spotted in Jasper County, moving East towards Quitman.”
Quitman? Jasper County? Never heard of ‘em.
BEEP BEEP BEEP….. “Tornado is approaching I-59. Take cover”.
We look out the window to see a “Welcome to Jasper County” sign. With a Quitman exit a couple of miles away!
Dom pulled underneath an overpass. Rain was coming down in sheets. Then leaves. High winds. (Didn’t seem to bother the trucks who were blasting down the interstate). Lightning was striking all around us. The car shook a bit.
By this time, both of us are practically shaking. We took a deep breath and headed South.
Maybe 60 miles later, on a different radio station, “BEEP BEEP BEEP”. Yep. Another tornado. Found an overpass and parked.
Finally moved on a few miles when the rains became so bad that Dom pulled off of the interstate for 15 minutes.
Things finally cleared up. For awhile.
We got off of the interstate at our exit and started heading West. Skies were BLACK. Yep…. 10 minutes later, we’re sitting in a church parking lot with zero visibility and lightning striking all around us.
FINALLY arrived home, safe and sound. Were greeted by two sassy kitties and a standing house.
We did absolutely NOTHING when we got home on Tuesday afternoon.
Yesterday morning, Dom walked out to empty the car. He came in to announce that someone had hit us in the rear right end either in Bowling Green or at a gas station. No note. Hit and Run. What a fun ending, huh?
This was the worst road-trip either of us had ever been on. We used to look forward to them. When our Christine got married years ago, we gladly hopped in the car and drove to Colorado for a few weeks of sightseeing and exploring. NOT NO MO!
So, I’ll be flying to Cincinnati over the holidays this year….had already booked the flight. Dom will amuse himself or be with friends. Then, I’ll be staying home with my husband over the future holidays. I’ll probably just fly to Ric’s in Jan. or Feb. each year.
And that’s our story!