Driving Mrs. Crabtree

In 1950, driving on the old mile bridge from the Ford dealership south of Lynden to the river, then from the river over the low fields to higher ground, was not a fun time.

The bridge was made of planks laid the long way and it was very narrow. It had wooden railings and a wooden curb to keep you from going down into the field below in case of an accident.

One day in early December, my new mother-in-law asked if I would drive her to Bellingham to do some Christmas shopping. They had a new Chevy and she didn’t want to drive on the bridge because it was freezing and the planks got very slippery when it was frosty.

I know how badly she wanted to go to town, so I said I would. Now, I was just 18, married a month, with a new driver’s license.

Off we went!

The speed limit was 15 to 25 mph. We were going along OK when I saw a car coming at us sliding sideways. He seemed to be coming pretty fast and I told Jenny to put her head down in her lap. When we passed each other with no sounds of scraping, we knew that we had made it.

Jenny asked how close we had come to each other because she had her eyes closed. I said I didn’t have any idea because I had my eyes closed, too.

We were all grateful when that whole stretch of highway was filled and a roadway laid over the top, never having to see or drive on those slippery planks again.

This story was originally published October 31, 2015 at 1:05 AM with the headline "Driving Mrs. Crabtree."