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Anne's Musings
The report said thousands of people everyday have a fear of crossing a bridge, some even to the extent of hiring someone to drive them across. How well this hits home. At least 10 years ago I was doing a feature story about a man from the town I lived in. He had been named the head of the Mobile Country Music Association. So my 6-year old daughter and I headed out from Flomaton to Mobile late one Saturday afternoon to enjoy a night of country music and talk to Curly Brooks. Curly in his younger days was the opening act for Minnie Pearl and traveled around the state with her campaigning for the very young candidate for governor, George Wallace. From Flomaton the two most direct routes to get to Mobile are either traveling on Highway 31 and going across the Causeway or down Interstate 65. I had always been comfortable using 31, but Curly's driving directions to the Country Music Association took me on Interstate 65. Dani was in the back seat as I was driving. It was right at sunset and as we approached the "Dolly Parton" twin bridges span of the Interstate the sun got in my eyes. I don't know exactly what happened. My eyes followed the outline of the tall cables that climbed high above the top of the bridge itself. My heart began to race and felt as though it would come out of my chest. My palms were so sweaty I could hardly hold on to the steering wheel. As hard as I tried to make the car go faster it would only go about 25 miles an hour as it crept up the tall expanse. Trying to stay calm for my daughter's sake - and mine - I began singing Jesus Loves Me over and over and over. After what seemed like an eternity my car finally crested the bridge and we were on our way down and we headed on to talk with Curly. Dani and I stayed on and enjoyed the evening and left about 11 p.m. There was absolutely no way I was going to go home the way we came on Interstate 65 so we headed downtown so I could drive back on 31. If you've never driven in Mobile at night - or in the daytime for that matter - there are lots of one way streets and I proceeded to get lost and guess what? It was time for another chorus of Jesus Loves Me. Just about that time on a lonely dark street a car came toward me. The closer I looked I realized it was a police car and I began to flash my lights at him. The officer was a young man and asked me what was wrong. I explained to him that I had had a panic attack while crossing the "Dolly Parton" bridge coming to Mobile earlier in the evening and I was not about to head home that route. I asked him how to get to the Bankhead Tunnel because once I got there I'd be able to get back to Flomaton. This very kind officer went one step farther, I guess because he was afraid I'd get lost again and he not only told me the way, he escorted me - lights and sirens - all the way to the tunnel! To this day I will not drive across that bridge. I have no problem riding across it since I can close my eyes. But it would be a bit difficult to drive across with my eyes shut.
One thing was reinforced to me on that day many years ago, Jesus truly does love me!
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