Mom did goofy stuff but loved us fiercely

When I was still a young boy, I sat in the passenger seat of our four-door Nash as my mother drove it for maybe half a mile down the middle of a ditch on the way to Kistlers’ farm. We were heading up the road from our farm to take lunch or something to people working in the hay fields. My mother had a healthy respect for the accelerator, so we weren’t setting any land speed records in the bathtub-shaped sedan.

By: Terry Woster, The Daily Republic