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A wreck, pest control and Ole Miss

Yesterday was one of those days. After working in the rain for fifteen days straight, trying to catch up with everyone and everything in the sunshine was cathartic. The sun was shining brightly and all I could think about was how beautiful the Nashville’s skyline looks in the fall. I reflected on all the devastation and water I had seen over the last few weeks that made me so grateful for life. I was bubbling as I walked into several clients’ offices to say hello while dropping off proposals that had been delayed due to the downpours from the sky.

As I headed over to Gaylord to meet with a prospective client, I got a call that changed that cheerful demeanor. I was told that one of my trucks was involved in an accident. Dang...not now, I thought. I called to make sure everyone was okay. I was informed no one was hurt but a teenager was involved in the accident. My mommy heart was tugged at immediately and I whispered, “Not someone’s child”. I asked again if anyone was hurt. I know how many times I have called and tried to minimize the damage in order to keep the person on the other end of the call calm and I figured I was being given the same treatment. I was reassured that no one was hurt but I was analyzing the information I was given; four vehicles, in the middle of rush hour traffic, on I-65, with a teenager driving one of the cars sounded bad to my mommy ears. I rushed to the office to grab insurance papers and an emergency spill kit just in case chemicals were all over the highway. Even though the truck was prepared for occasions such as this, an extra kit made good sense to me.

Trying not to speed as I was driving, my Mom hat was switched to my CEO hat. I called back firing off questions trying to grasp the situation and assess liabilities. Have you checked on the other drivers? How much damage did our vehicle do to the other car? I asked for the sequence of the accident. What truck are you driving? That one…then take the signs off of the truck, we don’t need to make the news tonight. Have you spoken to the police? Have you canceled your other stops? My questions were non-stop as my mind raced ahead.

I knew I was close to the accident because traffic suddenly came to a stop. In Nashville, a fender bender can shut down an interstate so I could only imagine what four cars can do when thousands of commuters were on their way home. After endless minutes of barely moving, I was able to pick up speed. I turned the bend on I-65 to see my truck on the shoulder. A leg sticking out of the passenger side door of my green pest control truck made my heart skip a beat as I decided to put on my emergency blinkers to drive pass the slow moving gawkers. Not bothering to look dignified, I jumped from my vehicle to see what awaited me. I peered into the wrecked truck and asked, “Are you okay?” I was given a brief nod and I gave my star bug killer a big hug and a kiss. Trying to check for broken bones, he pushed me away to finish up his call with the insurance company. I looked at the truck and thought to myself that will never be repaired. It looked as if was crumbled paper instead of metal.





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