On the hottest day of the year, a black car drove up. Visitors at the Mannes home were rare lately, and the three men who jumped out strode to the door with purpose. Martha hid in her room and listened at the door. They were all excited, talking very fast. There had been a terrible accident—two cars had collided head on just outside town. Both cars were full of drunken teenagers. Please, oh, please, could Fern come help?

Fern grabbed her shawl, spoke quickly and quietly to Martha. “Stay in your room, dear. Mommy’s going to go help some people who have been in an accident. I won’t be gone long. Please, Martha, don’t do anything to irritate your daddy, okay?” Martha nodded.

The four went out the door, and Fern looked toward the field where Harry was working. He didn’t see them, and judging by the looks on the faces of the men, there wasn’t time to go talk to him. They all got in the car and were off.

Eight kids, two dead by the time she got to the accident scene. She pushed up her sleeves and went to work as quickly as she could. It was agonizing. Delicate and intense. She worked nonstop, with only one brief pause for a cup of coffee. She stopped the bleeding where she could, but the damage to some of the young people was overwhelming.

They had evidently gotten boozed up and were playing chicken on the old road. The crash had broken them like china dolls. She worked on, trying to concentrate amid the din. She stopped the furious flow of blood from first one, then another, then went back to the first and tried to help with the more serious injuries. No sooner had she gotten started than another victim would take a turn for the worse, and she would have to tend to that emergency. She instructed the medics where to place splints and what dangers to watch for, advised them of internal injuries. Without Fern, all eight might have died.

When the sirens faded into the night, carrying their haphazardly patched cargo to the hospital, Fern thought she would faint from the exhaustion. Someone took her to Doc Pearson’s house where she had a cup of tea with Doc’s wife, and rested up a bit before going home. Then Dave McRae gave her a ride in his dad’s new car.

As they pulled up to the front, she sensed that something was wrong. The house was dark and quiet; the front door was open, and so was the barn door. Oh God, she thought. I can’t handle something here, too. Exhausted, she told Dave to go on home, and she went inside and turned on a light.