YOU NEVER KNOW

We piled into the car--my wife, my step-daughter Sara and my son Hank--in the morning for the approximate five-hour drive to San Marcos. Hank wants to play Division I football. He'll be a senior next year and has led his team in receiving as well as kick returns for the last two seasons. He had an outstanding track season in which he won regionals in both the 100 and 200 and has been hitting the weights hard. At six-feet and 180 pounds, he believes he has the tools to be a successful slot receiver at the next level. 

The Texas State Bobcats have struggled as a Division I competitor and Hank feels he might have opportunities here that he might not have elsewhere. He wanted to check out the town and walk around the campus as well as inspect the stadium to satisfy his curiosity, which was a great idea because we were looking for an excuse to spend a couple of  leisurely days in the Hill Country.

We weren't in a hurry and endured the boring drive from the border through King Ranch, two hours of utter desolation. The freeway from Corpus to San Antonio isn't a visual delight either, but when four people are jabbering in a car, the time passes swiftly. Once at our destination, we booked into the Embassy Suites just off the interstate with easy access to downtown. After we deposited our baggage in our rooms, we drove to the university. 

Hank was anxious to view the stadium. He was impressed. It is a cozy, 30,000 capacity complex that was recently remodeled. Full of illusions of grandeur about performing at this level, Hank expressed his satisfaction with a broad smile that didn't leave his face for the remainder of the day. Sara, who is in her last year of dental school at UT/San Antonio, counseled Hank that Texas State was the perfect place for him since the university isn't held in high academic esteem and Hank doesn't like to study. He was blessed with intelligence and rides that momentum to squeeze out decent grades with minimal effort. He possesses none of Sara's dedication and discipline.

We hadn't eaten since a late breakfast and within a football's throw of the Hays County Courthouse we made the pilgrimage to Grin's Restaurant. The hamburgers are the best, the fajitas are the best and the wife says that the margaritas are the best in South Texas although when you're from Brownsville, you hardly consider San Marcos, South Texas. The beer is as cold as the frozen 'ritas and I was in a serious drinking mood. 

We had paid at the hotel for a two-night stay and there was no reason to rise early in the morning. Our only goal tomorrow was to find an authentic barbecue joint in one of those little Hill Country towns and stop at a winery or two. It's not often that it's only the four of us and we had no other desire but to savor the time together. For three hours we laughed, ate to our heart's content and drank. Sara surprised me with her ability to handle several glasses of wine. She was letting loose. Dental school hasn't been a canoe ride down the San Marcos river and we had the luxury of seventeen-year-old Hank as the designated driver.

As usual I had planned the itinerary; I have a flawless record of taking in the sights and making the right stops. We would breakfast in Wimberly, visit a winery outside Fredericksburg, head south to Boerne in search of a barbecue joint about which we had received a positive lead, cruise through New Braunfels before heading back to San Marcos for another evening of song and dance. 

The next morning we consumed a big breakfast in Wimberly. With my wife behind the wheel and the kids in the backseat, we departed for Fredericksburg. The last thing I remember before regaining consciousness was an expanse of bluebonnets blanketing the rolling terrain. 

When I awoke, I was completely confused. I couldn't focus. I couldn't move. I finally realized I was in a bed. I was next to a window and rain was falling. A beeping sound filled the room. Where was I? What had happened? I slowly moved my neck from side to side and from my surroundings I gathered that I was in a hospital room. I lay there and did my best to collect my thoughts. 

A vague memory of San Marcos began to creep into my brain, but I couldn't reach a mathematical conclusion since I couldn't fathom the equation. I kept blinking. I tried to take a deep breath, but a sharp pain shot through my chest. Thoughts began to coalesce. I had been on a trip. My wife, Sara and Hank had been with me. What had happened? Where were they? Foundering in this confusion, a man attired in a white lab coat walked into the room and stopped at the side of my bed.

"Mr. O'Doul. I'm Doctor Matthews. You were in a terrible automobile accident Saturday. Today is Thursday. You have sustained several injuries as well as head trauma. It was touch-and-go for a while, but I believe that you will make a full recovery."

"And my family?"

He looked at me with a grim expression on his face.

"My wife?"

"I'm sorry that I have to tell you this, but she died instantly."

"And my daughter?"

"She lost her life."

"And my beautiful boy?"

"He didn't make it either. You're the only one who lived."

"No, doctor. I'm the only one who died."