Maybe This Could Be You



by Alicia Beckwith


My husband, Fred, was mowing the lawn on a hot June day while I got ready to go grocery shopping.

His mother, Fran, was watching our twin boys, Kevin and Michael, age two, in the house. I bid them a short goodbye and went down the porch steps to my little Pinto car. I got in, and turned the key.

“You boys be good and mind your grandmother. Stay inside ‘til I’m gone.” I put the car in reverse and started to back up. That’s funny, I said to myself as I felt the car rise up a little and bounce back down. I didn’t see any toys behind me when I got in.

I opened the door and got out. I turned to the left rear wheel and started to scream.

“Oh no! Kevin! Fred! Come quick!” I shouted. I realized he couldn’t hear me over the lawnmower, so I shouted louder. He finally heard and came running.

Kevin let out a little whimper and I saw he was starting to sweat a little. Kevin started to get up. I looked in horror at the tire mark on his little yellow sun suit I’d made for him. The track went from his tummy right up the side of his head near his ear where it stopped. The must have bounced off there.

I ran around to the back of my car and lifted the hatchback lid. Fred picked the boy up and put him down on a blanket we kept in the car. He ran to tell his mother what had happened, then came back to the car getting intothe seat while I got in the back with our son. Fred pulled out onto Fosdick Road heading north as I comforted Kevin, holding him.

“Mom said Kevin beat it by her before she could stop him!” he said.

Both of us were panicked thinking the worst. We’d only lived there a short time and didn’t know our distant neighbors in this farming area. Our only thought was to get Kevin to Myers Community Hospital in Sodus.

I started to pray as we pulled onto route 104 going east. Fred was speeding, but he called out to me not to worry. I prayed Kevin would not be seriously hurt, only bumps and scratches. The uncertainty was making me so fearful.

“Lord, please send us a policeman so he can escort us to the hospital. We’ll get there faster that way. Please Father.”

I can’t believe I drove over my own son! I cried bitterly. How could I have done such a thing! What will they think? I hope he’s going to be okay. Please hurry.”

No sooner had I said the last word, there he was in a black car, lights going. Naturally, he pulled us over, but when Fred called out we had a little boy who was hit by a car, the policeman got back in the vehicle, put the lights and siren on, and called out to follow him.

We sped, and I mean sped, along 104, going through lights all the way to Myers Hospital. The crew met us at the entrance where Kevin was taken by stretcher into a small curtained room to be evaluated. We were asked to wait outside in the waiting room.

Time seemed to stretch out into infinity as we waited to find out how our son was. We tried to comfort each other, but it seemed to fall flat. Our hearts and minds were with our little boy in that other room.

How seriously was he hurt? Would he be alright? Will we be able to take him home with us today? Will he need to stay here? That would be very hard for Kevin as he’d never been away from us, and he was with strangers in there. We just kept praying for a good outcome of a bad nightmare.

All at once, a doctor in a white jacket came walking briskly to us. “Please follow me.”

We got up and walked behind the doctor who led us to a small private room. A woman was standing inside a room along with a nurse. The doctor turned and left the room.

Fear mounted as we stood by wondering what was coming next.

The young woman in street clothes introduced herself as the hospital’s social worker. She then introduced the nurse.

“Please tell us what happened,” she asked.

I led her into my personal nightmare telling herexactly how Kevin had run behind the car as I wasbacking up to go shopping, and that I had run over him.

 “Can we see him? Please let us go in to be with him. He must be scared,” Fred pleaded.

The two members of the staff asked Fred to verify the details first, then led us into the room where Kevin was now in a little crib.

“He appears fine, however, we need to observe him overnight to be sure there’s no further injury that might show up,” the nurse told us. “You can stay with him a few minutes, but we want him to rest.”

“We missed you! How do you feel, honey?” I asked.

Kevin smiled up at me, put his arms around my neck. “Fine!”

I wanted so badly to pick him up and hold him on my lap, but didn’t dare.

“We missed you so much. We wanted to be here with you, but we had to wait,” I said.

Fred looked at me, then at Kevin. With a huge smile on his face he said,

“I missed you, but mommy didn’t miss you!”

We all laughed!

We were most fortunate that Kevin’s wounds were scratches and scrapes, nothing more, thank GOD.


While that was many years ago, the twins now 47 years old, it changed us. Fred and I took a first aid class. I later went on to become an EMT (Emergency Medical Technician, Level 2 (airway back then). I joined the Ontario Volunteer Emergency Squad and served for fourteen years.

I went back to college and obtained my Masters’ Degree in Social work. I worked in the field until my retirement and enjoyed it very much. My faith has remained strong all these years. I thank God for that policeman and his help in our hour of need.

Alicia Beckwith has been writing since her early teens and has previously published poems and short stories.   She is currently writing a biography about a small child surmounting many obstacles to survive and thrive.