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 My
husband and I were traveling from Illinois to Kansas. It was early
April, overcast, with a cold rain falling. The weather didn’t bother
us as we were snug in our little Ford van, happy to have time with
one another. We were close to New Virginia, Iowa, when my husband
asked if I wanted to stop at the next town for lunch. He would then
turn over the driving to me, and he would snooze in the passenger
seat. I agreed to the plan.
The next thing I knew, my husband was screaming at me to see if I
was all right. I could barely open my eyes and could just make out
two huge, dangling claws in front of my face. The pain was too much,
and I saw nothing until hours later.
A 40-pound wild turkey had flown through our windshield. She came
through the windshield and ended up in the back of the van. We know
it was a she because there were eggs, turkey entrails, turkey poop
and feathers all over me. One of the dangling Turkey’s feet had
walloped me across the cheek, leaving a huge mark. I had glass in my
eyes and was coated in glass shards.
Fortunately, an Iowa state trooper witnessed the entire catastrophe
and was immediately at our side. He called in more officers and an
ambulance. The trooper and my Mac pulled me from our car and tried
to get me to stand. I did…on shoes full of broken windshield. I
screamed in agony. Now my eyes were full of glass, and I was
standing on broken glass while cold rain drenched me. Unfortunately,
my nose was fine and the smell of me covered in Iowa turkey poop
positively prevailed.
Another trooper pulled up and started cleaning the
turkey from our car. He was an avid turkey hunter and proudly
proclaimed the weight of our turkey like we should be proud. He also
informed us it was mating season and turkeys leave their natural
habitat and get a little crazy. I cannot imagine mistaking a Ford
van for a tom turkey, but then turkeys are not known for their
brilliant minds.
All this was going on while the first officer held me as I sat on
the side of the road totally blind and in excruciating pain. I
wanted to smack my husband for talking about turkeys. At the same
time, I was sure I would be blind for life and kept crying and
telling the trooper I would never see my sons again. He kept rocking
me in his arms and saying, “Oh, lady. Oh, lady.” My Mac later told
me he was a very handsome officer, and I would have approved of such
a fine specimen of masculinity holding me in his arms. But I
digress…
The ambulance arrived, I was loaded into the back and away we went.
The medics started pouring some sort of liquid over and into my eyes
and started cutting my clothes off. They asked if I was hurt
anywhere else besides my eyes and feet. When I said that my breasts
were cut, they proceeded to start cutting my bra off.
That ticked me off!
“This is a brand-new Victoria Secret bra! I paid $50.00 for it, and
you are NOT cutting it off me!” I screamed.
“But, ma’am,” the composed reply, ‘you are cut and there are still
shards of glass in your bra.”
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“I can’t see you!” I scolded, “but you sound like you
could be the age of one of my sons. I’m telling you, leave my bra
alone!” Slapping my hands, added an appropriate touch of emphasis. I
was gratified to hear the two paramedics say they wouldn’t cut their
own mother’s bra off and they left my chest alone.
We finally got to the hospital and the charge nurse rushed out to
the ambulance.
“I want to see that Victoria Secret bra you are so protecting!” she
chirped.
If I had been able to see her, she would have been included in my
self-devised hand karate.
Hospital personnel put me on the table in the ER smelling to high
heaven, in extreme pain with pride and body terribly injured. The
bra jokes continued among the hospital staff.
For the next three hours the doctors pulled glass out of my eyes.
Then an optometrist worked his magic. God is good and I can see! At
that point I just wanted to lie down and sleep.
Unfortunately, we were car less since ours had been towed to
somewhere in Iowa, along with all our luggage.
(Side note: my Mac had one teeny, tiny drop of turkey poop on his
ball cap. Life is strange.)
We rented a car and continued to our Kansas destination. I showered
repeatedly trying to get all the muck off and the rest of the glass
out of my hair. Mac was following me around wiping up glass as I
shed it everywhere. It was such a relief to finally be able to lie
down and close my aching eyes. I bolted straight up in bed. The
insides of my eyelids and my eyes were so scratched that it was
almost impossible to close them.
Mac was busy making phone calls and telling our friends and family
about our turkey episode. Some were horrified; others were
hysterical with laughter. Our sons could hardly wait to tell their
friends about Mom being done in by an Iowa turkey.
As I ponder the meaning of all this, I must conclude that God does
give us guardian angels as we go through life. Whenever I pout about
the chances of a turkey rocketing through our van; I must consider
what the chances are that a state trooper would be pulled over
beside the road witnessing our debacle and immediately come to our
aid. I praise God and refuse to ever eat turkey again.
L. Maxine McQueen may be contacted at
maxmac.1@juno.com
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