My Wyoming daughter called last night. Her day yesterday off started out fabulous–horseback ride into the mountains with her boyfriend, Josh, lots of nice trout caught to fix for dinner, beautiful ride down the mountain.

Then while driving to meet some of his family for trout dinner the vehicle in front of them suddenly wrecked, ejecting two of the four occupants. Barbara just had a refresher CPR and emergency first aid course for her job as a wrangler on the guest ranch, so she jumped out to help while Josh buzzed up to the nearest house to call 911 (Wyoming mountains = poor cell phone service).

Unfortunately one of the men who was ejected was dead when Barbara reached him; the other was badly injured. It took the ambulance 35 minutes to reach the scene.

Why do I relate this morbid tale? For two reasons