IN 1950 OR 1951, THE DRIVER OF A VETERAN'S TAXI KNOCKED ME DOWN AT THE CORNER OF PARK AVENUE AND ST. JOSEPH BLVD. IN MONTREAL.
WHEN HE SAW THAT I PICKED MYSELF UP FROM THE STREET, HE SPED AWAY.
THE DAMAGE THAT HE DID TO MY BODY AND MY MIND HAS AFFECTED ME ALL MY LIFE.
I WONDER IF HE EVER TOLD HIS CHILDREN WHAT HE HAD DONE.
WHEN HE SAW THAT I PICKED MYSELF UP FROM THE STREET, HE SPED AWAY.
THE DAMAGE THAT HE DID TO MY BODY AND MY MIND HAS AFFECTED ME ALL MY LIFE.
I WONDER IF HE EVER TOLD HIS CHILDREN WHAT HE HAD DONE.
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I REMEMBER THE EVENT VIVIDLY. THERE WERE MANY PEOPLE IN THE STREET WHO SAW WHAT HAPPENED. SOME ASKED IF I NEEDED HELP.
I WAS A YOUNG GIRL. I FELT GUILTY FOR GOING TO THE MOVIES AGAINST MY MOTHER'S WISHES.
MY NEW PLUM COLOR COAT WAS SOILED, MY NYLON STOCKINGS WERE TORN, MY KNEES SCRAPED. I DIDN'T KNOW FOR SOME TIME AFTERWARD THAT THE HIT HAD LEFT A BIG LUMP IN MY ARM.
THROUGH ALL THE FOLLOWING YEARS I FEARED THAT LUMP WOLD BECOME CANCER, BUT OUR FAMILY SURGEON REFUSED TO "CUT A YOUNG GIRL'S ARM" UNLESS SOMETHING DEVELOPED. SO I LIVED IN TERROR AND DEPRESSION FOR YEARS AND NEVER RECOVERED FROM THE FEAR.
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