It was the anniversary of my dad's birthday, April 3.  I had a long day at Coors Field, and learned a lot for the week leading up to Opening Day.  I walked five blocks to my car, and drove two before the car bucked me like a bronco. Every picture tells a story, don't it?

I missed Sunday's Sunrise Service at Red Rocks.  But the irony of breaking down in front of the Samaritan House was grand.  Gary, the resident who called a car-smart friend to try to help.  The tow truck driver, David, ("Cinco" to his friends),  who made me laugh and did a masterful job of loading and unloading my car without causing further damage.  The bus driver, who advised me on transfers.  And finally, John, the kind customer at a Litteton restaurant who gave me a ride on the final leg of my 6-hour journey home.  The repair shop to which I was towed gave me has a business card that reads "Automobile lifesavers" and "Honest, Fair prices."  That they are.  The back 1/4 of the chassis must be rebuilt.  The tab will be less than the 8 bills I paid for a similar repair (other side) in Rochester, but still close to 8 bills.  I'm still smiling.  It's a small, monetary, price to be paid to mend a life that was broken.