A few minutes ago I was in the break room, waiting for my toast to toast and
reading the morning paper.  There was an article about the freeway sign that
fell over Highway 805 yesterday.  It hit a car and the driver suffered a 
broken wrist.  In the article they were interviewing people who were the first
on the scene.  When I read this line, "A woman who said she was a nurse called
his wife.  She kept him talking until police arrived."  a lump welled up in
my throat and I remembered when, after dad's accident, mom met the woman who
was the first on the scene of his accident.  She said she kept talking to him,
though he was not concious, until the paramedics arrived.  I stood there,
staring at the article, grateful that no one else was in the room, and cried
silently to myself.