We were over at the theatre to watch Black Panther. We'd met up with the Newmans. Thats not where this happened.
It was Sunday. After the movie, we went home and started some yardwork. That didn't last long. My Dad got his tractor out. Our mountain is steep. He went in a ditch on the right side, and the tractor rolled over him. I remember. Mom pacing back and forth. "What's happened?" "I'll be right down" she turned to me "Watch them, Pig or Dewey will come up soon." I grabbed her arm. "What happened?" I said, scared. "Dad had an accident, I need to help!" Mom ran out of the house. My brothers and sisters huddled up on the stairs. Dewey came soon enough. He watched us about an hour. I was praying, heart pounding, constantly texting and calling mom on my phone. "He's at the hospital." My aunt and uncle came, helped us pack. We shoved things into suitcases, but not too much. We had toys and bedding and everything but clothes and a few precious items at Grandma and Grandpa's. We drove to a burger king, changed our minds, and rode to a cookout. We ate, I stopped crying, I calmed down. We went to the grandparents for about 3 months. It felt like a year.
Now he's alive, praise God.