I was driving to meet a client in Hancock County when I got in behind the pictured Ford, which was weaving down Duck Creek Road when it veered right and descended to the position shown. A very old man was inside. Once I determined that he was in no immediate danger, I tried to call 9-1-1, but the reception was Appalachian bad. I drove to Highway 31 and flagged down the first vehicle that approached. Turns out, I knew the old couple; Judge Bill McMurry (ret.), and his wife, Judy. They called 9-1-1 so I could return to the scene and monitor the situation until help arrived. At this point I should note that had I not known the old dude was down in hollow, no one would have been able to see him from the road. Serendipity, I guess. I had hollered at the the old man as he was attempted to free himself from the car by extending a walking stick upward and out the drivers' side window, to absolutely no avial. When the law arrived I said as much, to which a bystander declared, that's Stanley Greene. He can't hear a god damned thing. Afterward I checked on him. Not a scratch. I was equally concerned with any fuel or radiator leakage into the tributary. None detected.
That there's the back of Stanley's old white head and his left ear.
The narrowing of life in the third act shrinks the outer flesh of supposed reality while emboldening the bones of honesty so that all comes ...
