BILL CADY Word Count: 149,227 - At My Friend's Place

Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 166
Sure does sound good. On paper. Okay, it looks good. Jesus, who‟s ex-wife are
you, lady? Get over it, already.
The guys were still standing there shooting the shit when we took off. We were
riding what I think was a five horsepower scooter. Between the two of us, that teeny
little machine was toting around 525 pounds, so it wasn‟t the fastest thing on the streets,
by any means.
Rex lived on the far side of the north end of Lansing. It was gonna take us half an
hour just to get there. I figured we‟d be at the party shortly after seven. Maybe seven
thirty, since we‟d both need to stop and buy beer.
As we approached the intersection of Robertson and Greenwood, heading south,
there were yield signs for the traffic on Greenwood. The intersection was at an angle,
kind of. If we‟d turned left, that part of the street was about ten feet farther to the north
than the part on our right. A jog, if you will, on Greenwood where it went across
Robertson.
A young lady named Virginia O‟Dell was driving a dark burgundy 1964 Ford
Mustang, heading east on Greenwood. The signs said she had to yield to any traffic on
Robertson. She either didn‟t look, couldn‟t read, or didn‟t care, „cause she just kept right
on goin‟ when she got to the intersection.
Rex knew he had the right of way, so he never let up on the gas when we got to
the intersection. We‟d already traveled the length of that very long block, which would
be two blocks in most places, and he still wasn‟t doing more than 20 mph. He didn‟t want
to slow down if he didn‟t need to. We were in the middle of the intersection when
Virginia O‟Dell tooled on through around 40 mph.
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