Near Cholame, California
September 30, 1955
Inside his black and white Ford Tudor, Donald Turnupseed leaned his head back and let out a sigh of relief. Whoo, he thought. That could've been ugly.
They say any accident you can walk away from is a good one. Of course, that's in relative terms. Still, Turnupseed knew he'd really lucked out. Things could very easily have gone far worse.
He'd very nearly gotten into a head-on collision with a silver Porsche Spyder, but the two cars had just barely managed to avoid it. Unfortunately, they weren't quite fast enough to avoid sideswiping each other, but the damage to both vehicles was superficial. The two cars had veered off the road, their momentum carrying them some distance before friction and their brakes managed to stop them.
Naturally, the accident was beginning to draw some passerby. But something was odd. While the energy around his car was more or less normal, the atmosphere around the Spyder was positively electric.
One of the people gathering around his car, an older man, asked him: "are you okay?"
"I think so", Turnupseed answered.
"Good". The man turned around and cupped his hand to his mouth. "Hey," he yelled, "this guy says he's alright! What about the other car?"
It wasn't long before he heard someone replying to the man, a woman. "They're okay too, but you won't believe who the driver is! It's James Dean!"
September 30, 1955
Inside his black and white Ford Tudor, Donald Turnupseed leaned his head back and let out a sigh of relief. Whoo, he thought. That could've been ugly.
They say any accident you can walk away from is a good one. Of course, that's in relative terms. Still, Turnupseed knew he'd really lucked out. Things could very easily have gone far worse.
He'd very nearly gotten into a head-on collision with a silver Porsche Spyder, but the two cars had just barely managed to avoid it. Unfortunately, they weren't quite fast enough to avoid sideswiping each other, but the damage to both vehicles was superficial. The two cars had veered off the road, their momentum carrying them some distance before friction and their brakes managed to stop them.
Naturally, the accident was beginning to draw some passerby. But something was odd. While the energy around his car was more or less normal, the atmosphere around the Spyder was positively electric.
One of the people gathering around his car, an older man, asked him: "are you okay?"
"I think so", Turnupseed answered.
"Good". The man turned around and cupped his hand to his mouth. "Hey," he yelled, "this guy says he's alright! What about the other car?"
It wasn't long before he heard someone replying to the man, a woman. "They're okay too, but you won't believe who the driver is! It's James Dean!"
