This story begins about 50 years ago, on a cold, winter night in January 1975, on the ice-covered Michigan 106 road leading into Stockbridge from Munith.
But first, let’s go back to September 1974. I had a great job at Libra Industries in Jackson and was making some decent money, enough so that I felt I could sustain a car payment. So, I went to Les Stafford in Jackson and purchased my first new car—a brand-new 1974 Pontiac Ventura coupe from Bill Gaddy. It was burgundy red, with a pinstripe, and black cloth interior. It was a beautiful car that closely resembled the Chevrolet Nova in body style.
Fast forward to January 1975. I was driving my new car to go and pick up my sister, Juanita, who was working at the Hans Sausage House in Stockbridge. Just outside of Stockbridge and before the Krummrey Farm, heading north on M-106, the road on both sides was nothing but a sheet of ice. I was traveling about 40 mph, listening to my radio, loving my car, not expecting what was about to happen. Right before the Don Krummrey house, I noticed lights coming up over the crest of the hill, heading south. All of a sudden the lights went away, and my headlights shined on a car coming over the crest of the hill … sideways … toward me!…