by Sherry Amos
I live in Virginia where you can find steep, curvy roads anywhere you travel. My three children and I were on one of these roads on day in 1994 or 1995. I remember leaving the house, not because I needed to, but because it was so hot that day I thought a drive would be a nice way to cool off.
We rode around for a while and ended up coming down Dante Mountain. It is one of the steepest, curviest roads I know of, and is really beautiful all year round. As we were nearing the bottom, I got the urge to go see my ex-husband’s grandfather, who was the only “papaw” I ever had. I didn’t go around him a lot at this time, because I didn’t want to run into my Ex and his new girl friend. But that day, the urge was greater than my desire not to see them.
Just after I had slowed down almost to a stop to turn onto the road he lives on, my breaks just stopped working. Thank God I had turned off the mountain, because I had slowed down enough to make the turn. I was able to drift our car safely onto the side of the road and call for help.
When I think what may have happened if my breaks had gone out just a minute or two earlier, or if I hadn’t turned off to visit my “papaw” that day, I shiver. I would have either plunged off the mountain on the left, or crashed into the rocky side of the mountain on the right. Either would have most likely killed everyone in the car. I believe we had an angel with us that day, guiding us to safety. I wasn’t going to a church at the time, and wasn’t religious at all. Even so, I believe an angel saved us that day. Thank God I had turned off the mountain.