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Run Down



This morning, Tuesday, 08-09-11, as I headed back to the SLRC office after nearly completing my usual 9 mile march up Highway #9, a white van driven by a Black man veered off the road and headed directly towards me. Shocked, I dodged out of the way, twisting my ankle. I turned to see the name of the company printed on the van; “Hour Glass Cleaners”. I hobbled back to the office and called the cleaners (Hour Glass, 120 E. State St., Black Mountain, (828) 669-7793). I told the manager who answered what had happened, and that as a courtesy before I filed a report with the Black Mountain Police, I had called them. The young lady told me that it was a driver from the Asheville office, and that they had no control of that van, and the drivers name was Charles. She gave me the Asheville number of Hour Glass (828) 251-1906, and asked me to speak to the owner. She also gave me the name of the police Detective to see in Black Mountain (Kevin Presley) and told me in no uncertain terms that she was a fan of mine.

I called the Asheville offfice of Hour Glass, and the young lady who I spoke with informed me as the other lady had that the driver was Charles, but also said that the owner was out of town, and that I should speak to Don. Don was very disappointed and informed me that Charles was a new driver and that he would speak to him. Before I could get off the phone he informed me to hold a minute because Charles was walking into the office. I told him that I did not want to talk to Charles, and that I was heading to the Black Mountain Police Department to lodge a complaint.

While I was giving the complaint to the Sgt. in charge, my cell phone would ring. Charles would try to cop a plea that he only swerved and was not trying to run me over. I told him that he had tried to run me over, and that I had nothing to say to him, and hung up. The kind officer took my report, and asked if I wanted to have the Firemen next door to look at my ankle. However, after seeing just how closed the doors were of the Fire Department, I decided as I had told the Sgt., I would go and see Dr. Payne. I hobbled back to the office, and made this report. I just hope that my ankle is not so sprained that I can’t make the March into Lexington, Virginia on September 1, 2011.

The irony for me was that I had decided earlier as I made my way up #9 that I would count the number of Black folks waving at me and hollering out my name. I was so delighted that I had counted as many as 50. And for some strange reason, there seemed to be a lot of people on the road this morning, and it appeared that they all had their cameras and cell phones pointed directly at me taking pictures. Before this incident, I was having a great morning waving and listening to the girls sing out the Rebel Yell as they passed me by.