At the age of 12, while riding my bike in my Homewood neighborhood, I was hit by a car. I had placed baseball cards in the spokes to make the bike sound like a motorcycle and wasn't paying attention as I rounded a curve and crossed an intersection into the path of a car.
The next thing I remember was landing about 40 feet down the road and looking up at a neighbor who'd been mowing his grass nearby. Fortunately, he was a Scoutmaster and was able to administer first-aid until the ambulance arrived. My mother arrived on the scene not long afterward to find me on my back and getting ready for the trip to Children's Hospital.
Mom road with me in the ambulance to the emergency room where we were met by my pediatrician and a whole lot of kind nurses and young doctors. I had not been wearing a helmet and so was very fortunate to have avoided a head injury. I was also fortunate that when I was wheeled into surgery that evening, my doctor was the renowned Children's surgeon, Dr. Marshall Pitts. Dr. Pitts gave me around 70 stitches as I remember and checked me out all over. I remember the great relief my parents felt knowing that I was in such good hands.
I remained in Children's for a week or so to let my internal bruises mend. I then spent about a month on crutches while the injuries to my knee and hip healed. The doctors and staff did such a good job that I healed completely, allowing me to go on to earn a scholarship to play basketball in college, no worse for the wear. Since my accident, I've heard many great stories about the care provided at Children's Hospital and I'm never surprised when I do. I was one of those stories.