Speeding

 

My Story #41

Ronnie W. Wolfe

I had purchased a beautiful fire-engine red Chevrolet Impala Super Sport hard-top convertible with bucket seats and an 8-track stereo and was driving down I-75 in those early days when there was not so much traffic on that highway.

I had a young man with me, and in my flesh I decided to see how fast that car would go. I looked around and noticed that the highway ahead of me was clear of any traffic for about three miles ahead, I mean, not one car on the entire road and the road was straight. So, I started driving faster and faster until the speedometer reached 101 miles per hour.

Then it hit me inside, that hurting feeling that I might kill this young man and/or myself by some tragedy. My heart and soul, I think by the Holy Spirit, convicted me; and I brought the car down to the normal 70 miles per hour, which was the legal speed limit.

I felt terrible afterward, and I apologized to the young man, who, I think, was enjoying every minute of it. Then I said to him, "I will never do this again as long as I live." I am almost 77 years old, and I have NEVER done this since, and I think I am too old and feeble to even try it now.

I DON'T KNOW WHAT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED IF I HAD GOT THE CAR OUT OF SECOND GEAR (I am only joking here, of course).