As they started to pull me out, I think I moved and they realized I was still alive. Long story not as long, I had a cut on my head that required 13 stitches. I was born on the 13th. My lucky number…
I also had a cut on my chin that went into my lower lip. I still have the scar.
Not one broken bone or other scratch on me. Somehow when the car slid into the ditch, my head was about an inch from the tire crushing me. To this day, my dad looks at me and says I should be dead. I tell him it was an act of God that I’m here. He is an atheist and doesn’t believe.
Long story short, I spent two weeks researching, cleaning off and aligning timing marks (three of them) and removing access panels and accessories. I would fix this sucker. After all, how hard could it be? Then as I was waiting for the courage to remove what I was sure was the offending pump a man rang my doorbell and asked if I had an Oliver for sale. He needed one. I told him the situation as best I could. He made an offer on the stipulation I put it back together in running condition so he could load it, which I accepted and which I did.