TOUCHED BY AN ANGEL
It was the twelfth summer of my life. My mother sent me to the field to call my Dad home for lunch. I rode my bicycle to the edge of the field where he was cultivating corn. We had an old Allis-Chalmers WD45. The cultivator gang mount on the rear consisted of thick bar of steel from which hung three cultivator shanks. I quickly ran up behind the tractor and pulled myself onto that steel bar as my Dad continued to drive the tractor. I told him lunch was ready and intended to ride to the end of the field and back again to my waiting bicycle. Neither of us saw it coming, but the rear cultivators struck a large stone buried in the field. I was thrown into the air. When I came down I was completely turned around, facing backwards, and landed on top of the rear wheels of the tractor. I felt the cleats of the rubber…
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