Page 203 - NIXBOOK

Me, in the living room of a run-down mobile home in a trailer park. I can’t remember what the homeowner had called for that
I was there, but I got all distracted by the rotten roof. The roof is so rotten that there is an actual hole in the middle of the
ceiling, where daylight is clearly visible. The hole is about the size of a basketball. The homeowner had put a bucket in the floor
to catch the rainwater when it rained. It was interesting.

Dude was driving to wedding. Driving too fast. He was the Best Man and I guess he was running late, doing about 90 mph in his
Honda Civic on the highway when he lost control and hit a median embankment surrounding an overpass support column. He
turned it into a ramp and it sent him flying over the oncoming traffic, Dukes of Hazzard style. A shaken witness told me a couple
minutes later “That car went flying right over me; dropping all kinds of gravel and rocks and dirt onto my car!” An airlift medical
helicopter dropped down directly onto the highway to load up the driver, who had sustained a major head injury when his car
crashed into the ground. The damage to his brain turned out to be permanent, I found out a few years later.

Old man suicided himself in his garage. In his car. Turned on the engine and gassed himself to death. Which is actually not a
bad way to do it, you just have to be sure nobody stops you between the time you fall asleep and the time you die, because
irreversible brain damage starts somewhere in there before the dying part starts. First thing I did when I got there was turn off
the furnace/fan unit, which was in the garage. The exhaust gas was long gone, but it had been replaced with a funky dead guy
smell and we didn’t need that to get circulated through the house. It was a memorable scene because the old guy had also
decided to take his old German Shepherd dog out with him, in the passenger seat. That was a little different.