By the time Clair and Helen Denzer moved from their first church in an ethnic neighborhood of Cincinnati to the county seat town of El Dorado, Kansas, their son and daughter were growing up. The salary in this church was enough to provide even an annual vacation trip back east.
It was August 29, and a soft drizzle was falling as Clair drove across southern Indiana on the way home after ten days with relatives. A curve turned out to be tighter than he had estimated, and traction was lost; the car went into a skid, broke through a guardrail, and went over an embankment. Tall weeds and small saplings along the ditch slowed their momentum, and he managed to get the car stopped without overturning.
A quick check revealed no apparent injuries other than bruises. The old car, however, had been banged up considerably, to the point it was undrivable. The family spent the rest of that day in a motel in Seymour while Clair shopped for another car.
We got home two days later and seemed to be all right—but ...1