A Country Bumpkin’s First Impression of The Big Apple

Women: Each One A Survivor

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It was 4 am, our planned arrival time so as to avoid the infamous traffic.  My eyesight is very poor for nighttime driving so I was calling out the turn by turn directions to my daughter, Toni, who was driving.  It was drizzling for the first time on the trip, and the moisture was creating smears across the windshield that added yet another dimension to our fear of the unknown.  After leaving the safety of the well-lit and nearly vacant Lincoln Tunnel, we were making our way into the lane we needed for a turn two tenths of a mile ahead when a car stopped right in front of us.

Driving somewhere we are comfortable with or familiar with, this would not have been a situation to cause us alarm.  But our well laid out plans of arrival time turned out not to have been such great plans after all. …

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