My freshman year in high school was the last one at the old high school in town. During band practice in the fall we would march down from the high school to the football field on Mill Street, a distance of about four blocks. We would march in formation down the street to the football field, practice, and then march back up the street. I played clarinet and the clarinet section was near the rear.

We had finished practicing and had just started marching back up Mill Street when I saw a car at the top of the hill heading down toward us rather fast.  Mill Street does a little bit of a dog leg about halfway down.  The car picks up speed but doesn’t make the slight turn to the right, instead going through the front yards of several houses.  It finally comes to a sudden stop when it slams into a tree about 50 feet directly to my right.

The whole event seemed to happen in slow motion.  Then it was, like, “Wow, that car slammed into that tree right over there”.  We all stayed in formation like good band members, though the majorettes seemed upset—but majorettes are just that way.  A couple of adults went over to check on the driver but we marched on up the street and back to the high school.  I don’t recall hearing if the car’s brakes failed or the driver had some medical problem.  But we were lucky the car veered off the street into the yards.  Otherwise, it would have taken out a whole bunch of kids.