It's now August of '71, I have been home from US Army Basic Training and Advanced Individual Training for about three weeks. I am in the AG Section of HHC 38th Division Indiana Army National Guard along with Dan Quayle Psi Phi '69. My wife, Carolyn, and I are driving to Indianapolis to spend the weekend with my parents while I attend the Guard meeting. It's about 10 PM and we are hit head on by a pickup truck who is going the wrong way down I 69 near Fishers Indiana. He first sideswiped a Semi and then hit us full head on. The car is spun to the right and a Sting Ray plows into Lynn's side of the car.
The rest is a nightmare. I am out for awhile and come to. I think I hear Lynn say "I love you" and that was it. We are taken to Fishers EMT and they determine Lynn is in such bad shape we need to run to Methodist Hospital in Indy. Dad was the president of Indiana Bell, and he and mom were out for the evening. I called the emergency number and talked to his EVP Paul Rankin who literally met us at the hospital. Lynn's intestine had been cut in half, jaw broken, several teeth knocked out, and she was in a coma. I had a broken leg, an black and blue impression like a large Peace Symbol from the steering wheel on my chest and a cut up face. We were both in the hospital for 11 days. She in the ITC and me in a room. Increasingly grave reports were coming about Lynn and the Doctors finally determined she was brain dead, and my father authorized turning off life support.
The next few days sort of whirl. We (Mom, Dad, and I) drive back to Ann Arbor. There is a funeral service at the Newman Student Chapel and a burial at the Cemetary on Geddes and North U in Ann Arbor. It was raining, the grave was on a hill, and my wheel chair let loose nearly launching me downhill into the grave on top of the coffin! This was followed by a reception at the Campus Inn with huge overly liberal libation of Bloody Marys.
I think the funeral is Saturday. I came back to Ann Arbor on Friday, and Mom and Dad leave to go back to Indy on Sunday. I am left with memories, her clothes and things, in our apartment, and I go back to work in Southfield the next day, basically still in shock.
The worst thing is that I probably never truly properly grieved this fine young girl, who will never grow any older. God bless any other young people who experience this sort of loss. It really sets you on your ear and leaves you gasping for air.
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