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  • Well, my parents, like everyone else's, have their little interesting things about them. My mom is one of the luckiest people that I know and every single raffle that she enters, she wins and she also has just really, really great gut instincts. And my father is just a really generous person. He loves giving gifts, but he is also the king of giving people gifts that are truly things he wants for himself. Um, one Christmas my mom got her big present from my dad and it was a bright, red Vespa. This wasn't something that she'd ever expressed any interest it, it was never something that, um, she wanted, but it was something that my dad had always wanted and so he thought Christmas was the perfect time to buy it for my mother. Um, as, we really didn't ride it much. My mom didn't like it, I really hated it; it kind of scared me. So, my dad was really the only one who rode it. Months passed and we finally needed our first tank of gas that summer. I was 12 at the time and I wasn't really into hanging out with my parents as much anymore. I was kind of getting to that age where I thought I was a little too cool. So, um, that morning my dad asked me if I wanted to go out and get a tank of gas with him on the Vespa. I really didn't want to and on top of that I really just had this bad feeling about it. I really just felt that that was not going to end well. I don't know what it was, but, um, my dad guilted me a little bit and made me feel kind of bad about, you know, him wanting to hang out with me, spend time together, so I agreed that I'd go. So we head out on the Vespa and we make it to the gas station just fine, get our tank of gas, everything's going well. And my dad decides, you know, let's cruise around a little bit, let's head out into, you know, the neighborhood, see some friends. So we ride around and we're passing by people's houses, you know, waving hello and we're going for a while when I finally tell my dad, you know, I think, I think it's time to go home. I think I've done my daughterly duties, I love you, but just please take me home. So he agrees, we're heading home and we get to this big street, Broadway that intersects my neighborhood. And we're waiting at the light, ready to turn down and the light turns green, there's no cars coming any way, you know, it's pretty clear oddly enough. And so we turn onto Broadway and we get no more than a block when a car, a big truck, is pulling out of an angled spot onto the street and instead of going into the right lane as he probable should have, he puts it in drive and heads straight into the left lane where my father and I were and hits us. Um, he hit us straight into oncoming traffic where luckily and oddly enough there weren't any cars coming on this day in particular, um very strange for Broadway. And, um, my father and I are laying there, both injured and this man and his wife get out of the truck and help us over to the side of the street as we sit there and wait for an ambulance. And I was definitely in shock at that point and just thinking to myself, why didn't I listen to my gut instincts, why didn't I just stay home like I thought and felt that I should? I'd probably still be there now with my mom and my dad would be still out, you know, cruising around more and he would have completely avoided this truck. But, um, from this experience I learned that, maybe I do have a little bit of my mom's, uh, killer gut instinct in me too and, um, I definitely listen to it a lot more now.
    Leadership Stories UT
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