I grew up on a Shippensburg farm,
close to town, close to Interstate 81, too.
I’ve got stories galore, from my time living there,
and I might even share them with you.
This particular one, as I best can recall, happened after we all went to bed.
It was late in the night when my dad heard a crash.
Many more followed that one, he said.
So he jumped out of bed and he quickly got dressed,
and he drove to the bridge up the road.
81 was all stopped and he noticed a truck
that had crashed and had lost all its load. ...