When I was around 12 years old, I would go to visit my father in Columbia, KY. My parents separated when I was 7 years old and since then, we spent every other weekend and a few weeks in the summer with our dad. My brothers and I could ride dirt bikes, hunt for frogs and swing on rope swings around the house.
One particular summer visit, my Uncle Todd decided to bring his three sons out at the same time.
Travis, Norton and Christopher were around the same ages as we were, so spending time with them was always a blast.
My older brother Kev and Travis were around the same age, then it was me and Norton and so on….
One Saturday morning, Norton and I decided to go for a ride on the dirt bikes. My father made it very clear that the larger red one would be driven by me and the smaller blue one would have to be driven by Norton. I was a bit older, and had been riding them for over a year, and my father was afraid Norton wouldn’t be able to handle the bike.
…. See where this is going?
We ride out for about a mile and end up at this big hill my brothers and I loved to ride on. The small blue bike was an older model. It never was able to make it up the hill.
I rode up and sped back down while Norton watched in amazement. He began to beg me to let him ride my dirt bike so he could ride the hill too. I was 12… I didn’t think about what my father had said. I instantly agreed and handed him the bike.
I sat on the blue bike and waited for Norton to return. I turned a pale shade of green when I saw a large van coming up the road, toward the hill. I started yelling.
“NORTON! GET OFF THE ROAD!”
The curves of the hill made it difficult to see oncoming traffic.
I began to breath heavy as I waited for noise… anything… Not a sound.
A moment later, I hear the sound of the dirt bike engine. Norton is barreling down the hill at a speed higher than I had ever seen. Even when Dad did it. I instantly found a problem. There was a curve on the hill that he was not going to be able to make while going that fast. Before I could get words out of my mouth, It’s too late.
He missed the curve completely and flew straight off of the road over a small hill. As if I was watching in slow motion, I watched as Norton and his bike flew into different directions. My face cringed as I watched him fall onto the pavement, face first.
37 stitches, 9 staples and one embarrassing conversation about disappointment and responsibility from my father, Norton was okay.
However, I was never allowed to watch him ever again. Even when I was grown.
This is a true story. Some names have been changed for privacy.
🧡Shine Bright, KaylaRecommended1 Simily SnapPublished in