Remembering a life lostI'm writing to share my personal experience associated with the 1987 flood. I remember it as if it was yesterday, not 20 years ago. It was the day my dad had a car accident that would change my life forever. Dad was working for the Coldwell Construction Co. building the bridge in North Anson. He knew the road below our house was flooded, so he was up at 3 a.m. because he had to go towards Bingham instead of his regular route.

He didn't know it at the time but the road up from our house was washed out, too. As dad was traveling, he did not see the danger in the road. He proceeded thinking it was just water across the road. When he hit, his car went into a hole and crushed the front end of his station wagon. There was a huge toolbox that dad kept in the car that came sliding up to the front and hit him from behind.

We don't know how long dad was there before Jim Davis of Bingham came upon the accident and called the ambulance. The ambulance came and rushed my dad to Skowhegan but his injuries were so severe that he was rushed to Portland Hospital.

My mom and I were stuck at home because we only had one car which dad had been driving. We waited for my brother, David to show up so we could go to the hospital to be with daddy.

Upon reaching Skowhegan, we had to cross the footbridge to get to the hospital. When we finally reached it, we found out that dad had been taken to Portland and no one had let us know. We headed back to the footbridge but the policeman would not let us cross again. Mom, David, his ex-wife and I had no choice, we had to spend the night at Skowhegan Hospital.

The next morning my brother got up early, hitchhiked to Norridgewock to get his car. After getting his car, he came back to the hospital to get us. We went back home to Embden to await news from my sister, Rachel who was with my dad all the while.

Oscar Walker let us borrow his car to travel to Portland to see daddy. We didn't know what to expect when we reached the Portland Hospital. All we really knew was he was alive. He had two black eyes, bruises all over, some broken bones, and a broken sternum.

With daddy in the Portland hospital, mom decided to stay with Aunt Marcelle, who lived in Portland. Thanks to Aunt Marcelle, mom was able to go to the hospital every day while daddy was there.

April 6, 1987, my Aunt Jan and sister Rachel were on their way to Portland to pick up mom and dad because he was being discharged. Everyone was so relieved that daddy was coming home. However, what we didn't know was a nurse was waiting for mom to tell her that daddy had passed away. He was getting ready to come home and a blood clot formed, killing him instantly.

All my mom could do was wait for Aunt Jan and Rachel to arrive. Upon their arrival, daddy's items were packed up, and the trip back to Embden began. When they arrived, the task of informing family members began.

That day, April 6,1987, changed the lives of many. My sister and three brothers and I lost our dad. My mom lost her soulmate and best friend - her husband. Dulcie, Dereck, Aimee, Richard, Jessica, and Joshua lost the best grampa in the world. My grampa Frank lost his son. My uncles, Gene, Mike, Jr., Larry, Phillip, and Kendall lost their brother. My aunts, Teddy, Pat, Kathy, Donna, and Tina also lost their brother. It was a very sad day for the Dickey family and for anyone who knew my dad.

This recollection has been difficult for me but I felt I had to share mystory about the most important man in my life, my daddy, Richard W. Dickey.

Kimberly Dickey