“The day my first grandchild was born, I braved a 3-hour dive in a torrential downpour. My husband, Henry, who had passed away 2 years before, had always done the driving. So to calm my nerves, I taped a photo of him—wearing a pink Hawaiian shirt—to my dashboard.
“An hour in, I was humming along with my favorite oldies station when my SUV began to hydroplane. Terrified, I jerked the wheel and slammed into the right side of a small sedan, crushing in its backseat.
“I was unhurt, so I jumped out and ran to the car, where I found a woman hugging a little girl. ‘We’re okay,’ she said. ‘It’s so strange. I was at the last exit getting gas, and a man insisted that Sarah sit on the left side of the car. So I moved her car seat—and this saved her life!’
“I invited them to sit in my car to stay dry until the police arrived. When they got in, the woman gasped. ‘That’s the man at the gas station—he was wearing the same pink shirt!’ I stared at the photo as tears spilled down my cheeks. ‘That’s my Henry. He’s in heaven, and he was my hero.’ The woman hugged her child close and said, ‘He still is.’” —Sue Brewer, 62, Mansfield, OH
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