Well, the drive from Madison to Jackson was largely uneventful. Well, save for the nasty wreck on US 72 west of Tuscumbia and east of the state line: three fire trucks, five or six state troopers, and a medical helicopter with blades going full-blast, waiting for a passenger to be put on board. I slowed down, said a quick, quiet prayer, and kept on going. It wasn’t worth dwelling on, but … sadly, someone in North Alabama got some really bad news tonight.

I’m about to shut my folks’ machine down and hit the couch—Another night on a couch!? cries my back; Shut up, you! cries my brain—and get ready to drive in the morning. I want to leave at 0600, because even though Google Maps’ routing me through Indianapolis [hi, Rick] does save me an hour, I don’t know what we’ll need to do when we get to the area, and I want us to be there to help Judy [Cindy's mother] and the rest of the family do whatever’s needed.

Prayers for safe travel would be appreciated. I’m refusing to let either my father or my brother drive any.