Two Guys and One Bike

I was 12 years old, out riding bicycle with my sister's boyfriend. We were riding on Country Club Road looking for a necklace she had lost. It was a beautiful summer day: not real hot with a wonderful breeze.

But we only had one bike (two guys and a bike - sounds like a good title for something). Anyway, if you know Country Club Road you'll know it has a very steep hill. So there we were: two guys riding on one bike. Joe-Joe was on the seat and I was, of all places, on the handlebars.

I should add that these details were told to me later on - I don't remember a bit of it.

We started cruising down that steep hill, riding double. At the bottom of the hill was a bridge, which we reached at a good clip. That's when the front end of the bike fell apart and the two of us went flying through the air. Both of us landed on our heads. Black top, as you know, is not very forgiving.

Joe-Joe suffered a fractured skull and was rushed to Lancaster General Hospital. He was unconscious the entire day.

Me? I was knocked out cold, suffered a serious concussion, and took 24 stitches in my head, lip and chin. My left eye swelled completely shut. I was covered in road burn on the left side of my body, from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.

I woke up later that day in the hospital, trying to figure out what had happened to me. Doctors and nurses kept asking me if I remembered what happened. My only answer was "no".

I felt so afraid in the hospital, mostly wondering where my mom was. At a time like that a little boy needs his mom. I knew she could make the hurt go away and take me home. However, she wasn't able to, and I stayed in the hospital for a week. I was in such tremendous, physical pain, and I couldn't imagine anything feeling any worse.

Boy was I wrong!

(to be continued)