another story

In 1965 my parents bought a new car, an Oldsmobile, and that summer, back from college and working at a job packing bibles by Canal and Archer they let me drive the old car, a 1960 white Ford that I liked to call the white tornado.  Although I never paid them a penny for it, it became my car.  I drove it to work and around with my pals that summer.  I was drinking by then, but I was always careful to leave the car behind when I did.

That fall I was allowed to drive it down to Champaign.  It was exciting to see all my college buddies and in my excitement my no drinking and driving maxim went by the by.

The Illinois Central goes over the city of Champaign on several viaducts and I ran into one of them, hit the supports that separate the two different lanes of traffic.  I was passed out and the car began to burn.  When the cops came across me the fire was getting close to the gas tank.  Risking their lives they pulled me out and some seconds later the car exploded.

I never thanked them.  I was in the hospital for a couple days.  My parents had got a call from the University and all the way down they weren't sure if I was alive or dead.  But you know what they say about drunks.  I was fine.  I had totaled the white tornado, and scared them to death, but I was fine, and they were just glad of that, and I pretty much skated through the entire situation.

But I never thanked the cops.  I don't know, I never thought about it, was that a thing people did?  I was starting my junior year of college and I had classes to go to, and I have to say that I never gave it a second's thought.

I don't know if the cops expected a thank you.  I don't remember any incidents where rescue victims thanked the police at the time, like I said, I never even thought of it.  Maybe the cops would have said, like they do in the movies, just doing my job.  Just doing their job like they would be doing those two subsequent occasions when they arrested me for public intoxication. which I don't hold against them because I was guilty.  

But it's a thing to think about when I rail about police unions and casual racism and all that jazz.  What about the time they saved my life?