Behind the Lines: by David Heiller

David Heiller The deer steeped into our headlights just as we reached the top of the hill west of Sturgeon Lake. We were heading home from the Moose Lake/Willow River football game Friday night, at about 11 p.m. “Deer!” Cindy shouted, the way a soldier might shout “Grenade!” in a World War Two movie. I slammed on the brakes, but it was too late. We hit the deer dead on. It flipped over the bumper and crashed into the windshield. Both air bags popped open. We skidded to a stop. Everyone was OK, except the deer. We sat in a daze from the crash and the air bags and the awful feeling of hitting a living creature. My mind shifted quickly to wondering how much this was going to cost. Then we staggered out of the car, coughing from the strong fumes that had emerged with the air bags. Joe Gibson pulled up behind us in his truck. “Seems like every time I see you, you’ve hit a deer,” he said, trying to inject a bit of humor into the situation. It wasn’t funny, but I cou...

David Heiller “I’ve totaled the car and I’m at the La Crescent rest stop.” That was all Cindy said on the phone last Wednesday night before she hung up. I was out of the house in about a minute, driving as fast as I dared on the snow covered road, down Hill side through Brownsville, up 26, through La Crescent, up 61, and to the rest stop on I-90. All the while wondering what had happened, and was Cindy okay. I pulled up to a Wisconsin state highway patrol car; Cindy was in the back s eat. I opened the door. She managed a smile and a look of relief, which I’m sure was mirrored on my face. Then the story unfolded. It makes me angry just telling it. The I-90 bridge over the Mississippi  in good weather. I was going the  other way  and it was snowy and slick. Cindy had been heading home from work. She had been driving cautiously on I-90. A couple inches of snow had fallen and the roads were slick. As she got to the bridge over the river, she felt a hu...

David Heiller Cindy and I drove home from book club on Monday night, February 9, just like we always do. Cruising along at about 55 miles an hour. Talking a little, listening to the radio. Just after we crossed the Kettle River Bridge on County Road 46, a deer ran in front of the car. One second the road was clear, and the next our headlights were full of a frightened, wild animal. Cindy screamed. I hollered. I swerved to the right. All in a split second. The deer’s head hit the left headlight of the car. Its body smashed into the left front side of the car, and spun away into the night. I fought for control of the car. We were in snow on the shoulder of the road. For a second I thought we’d go in the ditch, but I was able to pull the Taurus back onto the road. I stopped the car. Cindy and I both sat there in a state of shock. But we were OK. No one was hurt. ‘I took the flashlight out of the glove compartment and got out of the car. I checked it over. The headlight...

David Heiller Joe hopped in the truck and headed to school on Monday morning. Α fine mist had fallen in the early morning hours, and was still sifting down. It had frozen on the windshield, and coated the roads with an almost invisible layer of ice. "Joe" and a different red truck. Joe wasn’t thinking about much as he drove to school. Not until he hit the icy patch. He figured he was going about 55 miles an hour when that happened and he was suddenly out of control. Is there anything more frightening than losing control of a vehicle? Joe didn’t think so. His heart felt like it was going to come out of his shirt. It all happened so fast. The tail of the truck swung around and clipped the  Hillbrand mailbox, sending it over two barbed wire fences like a Kent Hrbek homerun. Then the truck shot to the other side of the road like a pinball. Α utility pole whizzed past, just inches away. Here comes the ditch! Α small tree shattered, its top falling on the hood. ...

David Heiller We got a new car recently, and I am thrilled with it. I had been driving a 1996 Taurus, which had 267,400 miles and a multitude of sins. Alan Wunmecka now has it in his scrap heap. I suppose ours like this when  it was new, but not by the  time it became David's. The new car is a 1993 Taurus with 150,000 miles. It has a good radio and cruise control. The muffler is a little loud, and the check engine light flickers to life every so often, but no problem. Some people might not be as thrilled as I am with my new car, but it’s a big improvement, and that’s the key t o my happiness. It got me to thinking about how improvements work or don’t work. Look around in your life—there are improvements everywhere. Start with your car; bet it’s a lot nicer than that 1954 Chevy your family drove when you were a kid. And we haven’t seen anything compared to what’s coming, with navigation systems that tell you how ...

David Heiller THE EDSEL, Ford’s greatest fiasco, was introduced to the American public on September 4, 1957, as the first of 110,000 rolled off the assembly lines in Detroit that year and 1958. Edsel The Edsel, named after a Ford son, soon became the laughing stock of the country. They were big cars, with a lot of electronic gadgetry, and perhaps ahead of their time. But most people agree that the reason they didn’t catch on is that they just plain looked funny. It was the round grill on the front end that created the belly laughs, commentator Harry Reasoner said on the radio this week. No car had ever had a round grill before. It made the car look like an Oldsmobile sucking a lemon, Reasoner said. Ford, I think has the last laugh, though. Just try to buy an Edsel from someone who has one of those originals. They are collector’s items, worth far more than their original purchase price. Cars are really an important part of our lives. Whether you are one of those peo...

David Heiller HMS Lorely is sick, deadly sick. That’s our car, a 1978 Ford LTD named after my wife’s mother (no resemblance), who gave it to us three years ago. HMS Lorely, our 1978 Ford LTD didn't look  this good. It was the size of a boat! HMS (Her Majesty’s Ship) isn’t much for looks. The gray sides are rusting, and the vinyl roof is bare in the middle and shredded at the sides, cracked and peeling. It’s a real rag top. The loose flaps of vinyl slap the roof like a bongo drummer when she goes 50 miles an hour or more. I don’t mind that. It’s the deadly disease which our friend Jim Kephart calls “blow-by” that really hurts. I didn’t know what “blow-by” was until the car started leaking oil at an alarming rate. First it was a quart every 200 miles. then every 100, then every 50. Now it’s down to a quart every 25 miles or so. I called Jim Monday night to ask him what exactly “blow-by” means. He took a deep breath, like he does when talking to one of his seventh ...

David Heiller   The heat is on to buy a new car, or at least a newer one than the 1979 Bobcat which we currently own. The 1979 Mercury Bobcat. Ours was red. Ours should have been dead. The Bobcat had no heat, so the year I worked part time in McGregor,  David wrapped baby Noah in a sleeping bag, and then  we  would tuck me in. He closed the gigantic door  by lifting  and pushing, and off I would go through the  wilds of  the Arthyde swamp.  The return home was more  complicated, since you  did need a second adult to close the door. It was a long and cold winter. The heat is coming from my wife, from my family, from my wife’s family, from every direction but the car itself. You see, the car, Lucy, doesn’t have any heat. That’s one of her drawbacks. The heater hasn’t worked for two winters. But that doesn’t bother me, at least not now. “Face it David, this car is i...

David Heiller Sometimes it’s nice to have a little good luck. I’m speaking about an incident last week with my car. The car, a 1996 Ford Taurus, is a pure beater. Two doors don’t work, and the dash board has more warning lights flashing than an F-15. It has plenty of little dents, and a few big ones. I’m almost embarrassed to drive it. But not quite. It still drives all right. The mileage is decent. And it’s paid for! The car has seen just under 263,000 miles of action, first in Pine County, now in hill country. Nothing major has ever gone wrong with it, which I find amazing. That’s a testament to how much better cars are made these days. The car almost suffered a fatal blow about six years ago, when I hit a deer with it head on. The impact broke the windshield, fractured the frame in front, and deployed the air bags. No one was hurt, except for the deer, but the repair estimate was $3,600. That was more than the car was worth, so the insurance company totaled the car, pa...

David Heiller Challenges come in all shapes and sizes. For a baseball player to bat .400, that’s a challenge. For an executive to earn $892,000, as does the head of Pillsbury, that’s a challenge. Sometimes, challenges go unnoticed that may be just as important to the individual as those that make the headlines. I can think of a few, and I bet you can too. One is the tea challenge , or the Tea Cup , driving to work without spilling your hot coffee, or tea, in my case. This competition has certain ground rules. The cup must he filled to the brim when you leave the house, and it must be boiling in the cup, so that a spill will sear flesh and possibly affect your regenerative future. You must also drive a stick shift. The car must have at least 100,000 miles on it. You must cover at least five miles of gravel road with the full cup, in northern Pine County. Roads closer to the county seat are too well maintained to be part of the Tea Cup . Often, I’m lucky to get out of the driveway befor...