Good morning all. It has been awhile since I have been here to visit with you. I can give you the whole list of excuses and most would be valid and accurate but who needs to be bored with those. Everyone has them and no one wants to hear them. So I will give you some good news. This past Mother’s day I wrote the final words to the sequel to A Hairdresser’s Diary. I was so excited to have finished although we all know it is not really finished. Now comes the hard part edit, edit, edit.
I though you might like a taste of what I have accomplished so far. For those who have read my first book this will make sense to you. For those who have not it might be a little confusing. Anyway here is a taste. I will add more to morrow.
A Hairdresser’s Diary
Scissors Retired
Chapter One
It was a long and painful, five years that followed the devastating car accident that targeted me in mid-June of 1970. The memories were overwhelmingly painful for me. So horrifyingly vivid were those first hours after being hit by the unconcerned, uncaring drunk driver those memories remained fresh in my mind. The life altering accident happened in a split second, but in my mind, it repeatedly played back in slow motion. There were even freeze frame moments. I was overcome with anger as I recalled the way my back was twisted so severely and grotesquely. Seat belts were not installed in vehicles as of yet. I was sitting facing Ron, my husband, both my knees rested on the front seat, my feet on the console and my left arm on the back of the seat. Then, in a flash of a second, a drunk driver sideswiped us. He was driving a stolen car, and was on probation from prison and had no driver’s license. He was eventually charged with dangerous driving. When he hit us the whole top of my body twisted to the right. I hit my forehead on my passenger side window. My knees remained on the seat. I thank God that Ron was not badly injured, even though our car was totaled. Fast thinking and in shock, Ron was able to get us to the OPP station safely. He was smart enough to get the description of the car and had part of the license plate memorized. It was not long before an OPP officer had the driver in custody. Remorse was not in this uncaring person’s personality. For someone who caused so much devastation and destruction he got off easily, his sentence was few more years in jail. My sentence was far greater. Although I was the injured one, my sentence would be for life. How profoundly unfair, one drunk drivers inconsiderate choices changed the lives of a whole family. At the time, Ron and I did not know just how much fight God had instilled in us. In the next few years, we would have many an opportunity to show the world just what we were made of. I still remember those family members who thought these two, nineteen-year old kids wouldn’t last a year together, let alone have the guts and gumption to get through this life-altering circumstance.
Christine M. Hannon, Author, Artist, Poet and Entrepreneur 