Short stories (Luck or something else)

We will call this one The Bird.

While I was going to college in New York, I bought a 1970 Plymouth Superbird, Dodge and Plymouth wanted to race their new prototypes in NASCAR and in order to do that they each had to build 500 cars and make them available to the public. The Plymouth dealership in town had a 1970 Superbird all set up for the drags the following Saturday, and was loading it onto a truck to take it to the strip. Doris and I pulled into the dealership to watch the spectacle. The driver did a little burn out, lined the Superbird up and put it on the truck. I was talking with the driver asking all sorts of questions when he said, "Why don’t you get one of your own, there is one inside on the show room floor." We went inside and sure enough, there was another one, without all the flames and decals. It was white with a white interior, kind of plain but me and Warshauskies could take care of that. I asked the salesman “how fast will it go?” and he answered “174 miles per hour, if it doesn’t, bring it back it’s broken." That was all I needed to hear, and I bought it for $5123. With my Buick Station wagon, as down payment I drove it off the lot that day. After Doris and I got back to Rockford, I went to work at the Wurlitzer Organ Co. in DeKalb. On the way to and from work, there was a long sweeping corner that I had no problem taking at 150 MPH. One day on my way home I was just exiting the corner when I saw a tractor pulling a hay wagon in the road ahead. The next several miles were straight and only a few rolling hills. As I approached the tractor, I pulled out to pass and pushed the accelerator to the floor, and the Superbird responded. Just as I was about to go around the tractor a yellow Volkswagen Bug came over the small hill just in front of me. I didn’t have time to do anything but head for the ditch. I went down into the ditch to my left as the VW passed, at around 180 MPH it took less than three seconds to get past the obstruction. I must have gone several hundred feet in the ditch when I pulled back onto the highway about ½ mile in front of the tractor. I slowed back down to the posted speed limit and continued home. The following day as I was on my way to work and approaching the corner, I looked to my right to see if I could tell where I had left the road the evening before. I was not able to see any area that showed any signs of the incident. On my way home, I looked again at the posted speed of 50 MPH. Not only were there still no signs of the incident, there were telephone pole's trees and culverts with concrete abutments in the ditch with residential driveways over them, all along the area I was sure the situation had to have accorded. For the next several days, I looked again but there was no place it could have happened. By this point, I believe you have to make a choice, either I was hallucinating, or it was a miracle.