As newlyweds, Steve and I enjoyed living in the rural countryside of Morgan County, Alabama. We married in 1975, and his first cousin married in 1976, which began a lifetime of memories that the four of us would share as we started our married lives together. Jerry and Kathy became and still are our closest friends. We worked during the day and played in the long summer evenings. Living ten minutes from the Tennessee River, with access to a boat, afforded us lots of summer fun on the water. We would rush home and head to the river, skiing and tubing until dusk before coming home to grill something for dinner. We lived next door to one another on Jerry’s dad’s property, leaving plenty of time for us to enjoy the summer months.
As Fall arrived and the weather cooled, we parked the boat, and Steve and Jerry revved up the engines of their trail bikes. Kathy and I would climb on the back of their bikes, and off we’d go up the old mountain trails until we reached the top and the terrain leveled off. Then the guys would kick those bikes into high gear, and we would ride across the wide open spaces on top of the mountain with the wind on our faces and our mouths closed. We quickly learned that lesson when we swallowed a bug that flew in our mouth! Nasty!
One afternoon, we came across a terraced field. Steve decided to ride across those terraces, and I did my best to stay on the seat. It was like trying to stay on a bucking horse! The more I bounced, the further underneath him I got. He was partially standing, so the terraces weren’t bouncing him up and down. Laughing hysterically, he kept going until suddenly, there was nothing but air underneath us! The landowner had dug out eight or nine feet of earth, sending us plummeting nose-first to the ground.
We crashed into the ground hard. I can still remember the sound of our helmets as our heads smashed into each other. It was the loudest crack I’ve ever heard. Then silence. We lay sprawled out on the ground, stunned at what had just happened. After a few seconds, without moving, Steve said, “Are you okay?” “I think so. Are you?” I reached for his hand as we slowly began to sit up.
As we helped each other stand up, Jerry and Kathy slid to a stop at the edge of the hole we had accidentally found. Their faces were white with terror. Riding behind us, they saw us ride off what they feared was a cliff. In unison, they stammered, “Are, are ya’ll alright?” We both laughed in relief. “Yes! I don’t know how, but we are.” Jerry said, “You scared us to death.”
The bike cranked right up after checking it over. After straightening the headlight and mirrors, we found a way around the giant hole and rode back up to join Jerry and Kathy. With a sigh of relief, we headed home, but we rode a little slower this time. That night, as we blessed our dinner, we thanked God for protecting us.
Forty-nine years have come and gone, and the four of us are closer than ever. Between us, we have five children and twelve grandchildren! We no longer live next door but still visit regularly. We’ve shared life’s sorrows and celebrations, and we always will because that’s what family does.