It was Candlemass, February 2, 1957. I had a medical appointment for myself and my infant son, his 6th week checkup. In those days when I made a doctor's appointment I tried to keep it. This was inspite of a freezing drizzle that kept up all day long. The appointment was for between 2:00 and 3:00 in the afternoon. When I left the doctor's office I did something I had never done before. Instead of putting him on the seat (no car cribs,infant seats, or seat belts in those days) I put him on the floor on the passenger side of the car even though the floor was wet and dirty. I felt a compulsion to do this without really knowing why.The rain had gotten heavier and the weather much colder. All the streets were coated with glare ice. I was driving very cautiously through the city near where Our Lady of Guadalupe Church now stands. There was very little traffic, but as I was driving along Concord Street/Highway52 through West St. Paul I came to a gentle grade. This was the old highway and there was sort of an island between lanes were the road went over a hill. In the past the street car (light rail transit) used to over the hill at a higher point than the new road where the hill had been cut away. There was still a grade here and as I approached the hill I could see there was only one car on the road coming towards me. The other driver seemed to be driving as cautiously as I was.
Suddenly I heard this loud male voice shouting directly into my right ear, it was forceful, very commanding, and I responded to it immediately doing as I was told. The orders were 'Step on the gas and get the Hell out of here!'
I put the foot feed all the way to the floor and the car shot ahead immediately. About the same time my rational mind kicked into gear telling me no one drives like this in these conditions. At the same time I looked into the rearview mirror. What I saw caused me to pull to the curb and remain there until I stopped shaking. That car that had been coming towards me was spinning wildly out of control at the exact spot we would have been had I not heard that warning voice!
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My angels also saved me on two other occasions. I don't recall the exact date, it can be verified from newspaper archives as it was a very serious accident with many people killed.
My husband had forgotten to mail a letter to the state tax office before the deadline. It involved large sum of money due us if we got it filed on time. He asked me what we could do about it. I knew the man who worked in the mail room at the State Capitol and I told him I could give it to this man and he would deliver it to the right office in time to insure we would get our refund.
As I was driving along, not exceeding the speed limit, but pushing it to get the letter there before time ran out. I heard a small voice ask me 'Why are you rushing to your own funeral?' I reduced my speed and continued on my way.
On South Wabasha Street leading into St. Paul there is a huge bluff on the west side of the Highway, there is a small restaurant situated between the bluff and the street. I had to come around a curve and go down a grade to pass this point. I noticed there were cars parked in front of the restaurant with one space open between the cars. I also noticed a truck driver with the billfold in his pocket, the type with a chain on it. The semi-truck tractor and tanker trailer were parked on the east side of the grade and as I approached, the truck started to turn and roll towards the restaurant. Somehow the unexpected movement of the truck led me to think the driver was in it. The truck rolled across the street in front of me, directly through the one open parking place. It did not touch either car but went between them. I could read the name on the side of the tanker as it rolled and crossed the street. The movement led me to believe the driver was still in the cab. I thoug!
ht surely
that fool will stop when he reaches the curb! Not so, it went up and over the curb. As it crossed the sidewalk, I again thought the driver would apply the breaks and stop. Instead it crashed right through the restaurant. I watched people seated at the counter die with their coffee cups in their hands as they sipped their coffee. They never knew what hit them, they just died quietly and suddenly in the middle of a pleasant summer afternoon.
I was in shock, my hands froze on the steering wheel. I drove slowly on and watched the cab emerge from the rear of the restaurant. Dust, debris and concrete blocks flying everywhere!
It reminded me of motion pictures of bombing scenes from World War II.
I had just been hospitalized a week or so before. I was in no condition to render assistance, I realized I would only be in the way. I went on and stopped at the Emergency Hospital where my aunt was in the burn unit. My aunt thought I was acting rather strangly and asked me what was the matter. Actually I was in deep shock, walking wounded as it were. I had forgotten about seeing the driver on the scene or the name on the side of the truck which was loaded with liquid sugar.
My aunt asked me for the details and I told herher as clearly as I could recall.
Everytime I have to go to the cities I have to pass by a huge oil refinery and in my mind the tanker became an oil tanker. My aunt called the nurse into the room and told me to tell her what had happened. The nurse immediately called the Emergency Room and alerted them to this accident. Her report was the first one the hospital had received, the police were just responding to the accident scene. Because I said oil tanker, they were ready to take in more burn victims, fortunately this was not the case.
There were very serious injuries, 11 people killed on the scene, and a few more dying later.
After dropping off the letter, I went to the doctor's office which was nearby and asked for a tranquilizer. The doctor gave me the medication and had the nurse put me in a room where I could rest for an hour or so until I could negotiate the trip home, 29 miles distant.
When I came home, my husband was angry with me for coming home so late. I told him about the accident but he did not believe me, he thought I had concocted this wild excuse to justify being gone so long. I just told him to watch the 6:00 o'clock news and see the truth for himself.
If it had not been for my angel whispering in my ear, I would have been killed that day. I was one single breath away from being the first victim.
I used to go by that restaurant often, each time I did I thought 'that is a pleasant looking place.' 'Sometime I am going to stop in there and have a coke or something.' I never did, and after the accident I never will, the place has not been very successful since that horrible accident, it changes hands often. Maybe there are ghosts who want the place for themselves.
