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© Copyright 1998, Jim Loy
A long time ago, I owned a dark green, 1965 Ford Mustang. It had plenty of power, and was my pride and joy. I loved that car.
One day, I was driving West on Huffine Lane (US 191), just West of Bozeman. I always tried to drive at 55 MPH (the speed limit in those days) or less. Ahead of me all of the cars going my way had stopped behind a car which was turning left. The sun was in my eyes, and I had a momentary lapse of attention. When I saw that the cars ahead of me had stopped, it was too late to stop. I stomped on the brakes and skidded into the rear car. Instead, I should have flown off into the cow pasture on the right, about a 6-foot drop. Anyway, I broke the guy's tail lights and scratched his bumper. He wanted to beat me up. I totaled my Mustang, the front end went under his bumper. There was antifreeze and glass all over the highway. I sold the Mustang to a junk dealer, for $100.
It may have changed my life. I never again placed so much value on the things that I own.