When I was a very small boy, of about 7 years old, my Father and I were driving one very wintery, snowy evening. We were going from Milwaukee, Wisconsin to St. Joseph, Missouri for the Christmas season. We were going to visit my Grandmother Nell and have presents, cheer, tree decoration, & other yuletide events. We were traveling Southbound on I-35 on the final leg of our journey near the Iowa-Missouri border. My Father was pushing to get in that evening despite the blustery cold winter’s night. As we traveled along, I had fallen deep asleep in the passenger seat of the car. I was having young boy dreams and thoughts as the car barreled down the Interstate. I awoke restfully and it was about 10:00 PM. I looked at my Father. He was driving the car in his light brown calf’s skin leather coat. That coat was lined with soft white faux fur that kept him so warm, and I could feel it’s warmth when he’d hug me wearing it. My Father still wore glasses at the time. It was dark and shadowy in the car’s front seats. I can still remember the fear and worry that shown on my Father’s face. As young as I was, I could sense that something was wrong. I asked him, “Dad, what’s happening?” He said, “there’s nothing to worry about Aaron, it’s over now. But, right before you woke up, we hit a particularly icy stretch of the road. I was driving fine and the car was handling the road beautifully but a semi was behind me. We were coming down a hill and the semi began to skid on the ice. It was coming down on me fast, so I had to speed up to stay ahead of it. As I hit the gas the semi started to jackknife. If I wouldn’t have accelerated out of it’s way, it would have taken us right into the ditch with it. I was scared we’d start skidding out too, and we started to a couple times, but I managed to keep the car steady.” Being 7, I barely even knew what a semi was and had no idea what one jackknifing meant. I had all sorts of weird visions of how a big truck can take on knife form and pierce an auto onto it as it crashes. As an adult, it is clear that actually this isn’t so far off. My weaponized view of the tractor-trailer was fairly accurate. It was a giant projectile weapon hurtling violently at us through space. Dad explained what a truck jackknifing was, but it just flew over my head, and my child mind clung firmly to the moving sharp truck weapon piercing the car and taking it off the road venomously and purposefully. Further, the idea of counter-steering was new, but I understood that he’d kept our car from becoming a sled at high speeds and flying off the road. I was very impressed. My Dad calmed down after telling me the story as we all know the act of revealing and sharing a moment of fear brings relief. I remember feeling so safe and secure knowing that as I slept my Father could handle the terrible jackknife truck of death, or whatever other dangers may arise. Further, knowing that his navigation of roads, and perhaps of life were second to none. I dozed back off trusting and innocent, and left my Father again alone to face the winter’s drive. He had my trust and my love, and I like to think that kept him company at the driver's seat. I awoke to find us safely at my Grandmother’s house late at night, and soon found myself much more comfortable in a warm bed.