In 1990, when I was a teenager, I was fortunate enough to live on a country road called Stony Creek.
I drove for the local radio station, KVTV-FM, on a daily basis.
I was able to get a few hours of listening time every weekday, which allowed me to listen to local radio shows as well as talk to the other members of the local community.
One day, a caller told me that a truck had just been stuck in the mud on a remote road in Utah.
The driver was dead, but the truck was intact.
I didn’t understand what he was talking about at the time, but I knew that my life was in danger.
I tried to get out of the way of the vehicle but the driver just kept driving.
I figured I’d get out a few times before I had to take a life.
I finally got out of there, but it was still hard to understand what had happened.
The next day, my friend and I decided to drive the road and stop to take some pictures.
A few miles later, we heard a car crash in the distance.
I ran up to the scene, and the truck driver told me there had been a collision.
I thought he was joking, but when I got to the site, it was a different story.
The truck driver had died, and it was the driver’s family who were in the wreckage.
I found out later that the truck had been destroyed by a roadside bomb.
I’d already experienced this sort of thing, but at the same time, I knew I was at risk.
I had been living with a broken arm and leg that I’d broken in the first accident.
The injury kept me from doing much of anything.
When I finally went back to school and got a degree in radio, I tried out for the KVX-FM radio station as a young radio reporter.
I’d worked at the station for about a year and a half.
My first day there, I heard the call for help.
I jumped out of my car and started to chase after the trucker’s family.
I went to the truck’s house, but he was gone.
I walked through the front door and saw that the driver had already been killed by a bomb.
He had been wearing a white T-shirt with a red bandana on it.
The car was parked at the side of the road.
I could see that the front window was blown out, and a piece of wood that was part of the truck came off the top of the trailer and landed on the driver.
He was killed instantly.
He hadn’t been wearing any clothes, but his body had been covered with a white sheet.
I took the driver and his two daughters to the hospital.
They told me what had just happened, and I immediately went to work.
I wanted to learn how to operate the radio.
It was a new hobby for me.
I learned how to fix radios as a hobby, and one day I realized I had a knack for it.
It didn’t take long for me to get to know the people I would be working with.
I would call the radio station in Utah on a regular basis to tell them that I needed help, and sometimes they would be able to help me.
I remember the first time I got a call from KVV-FM.
The station was just being held up by the Bureau of Land Management, and they were trying to get the station to broadcast.
I heard someone from the station say something to me, but then the phone went dead.
I called back to the station, and there was no answer.
The call had been answered.
I picked up the phone and tried to call back.
A message came through, and that was when I knew something was wrong.
I started to drive toward the radio and the voice said, “We have some bad news.”
I called KVZ-FM on the radio, and after I dialed in, I got the same message.
The operator on the other end of the line said, “… we have some serious news.”
I called back, and then I heard a voice say, “You have been selected for the next station.
You must get out as soon as possible.
We’re sorry, but we’re trying to hold you for an emergency.
We can’t do anything.”
I said, What do you mean I have to get off?
“The operator replied, “Just get on the road.
“I started toward the front of the radio to get it in the air.
I wasn’t sure what was happening.
I’m sure that it was my imagination, but something was very wrong.
I drove on.
I couldn’t believe it.
I felt like I was on the wrong side of a wall.
I stopped at the next intersection and then drove on for a while.
Then, the voice again told me, “