If they ain't drunk, they're pissed off.
On a sunny fall day last year, Randy Nelson was driving his 2-year-old son home from day care when he suddenly heard screeching tires and saw a white pickup careening toward them.
A thousand thoughts seemed to run through Nelson's mind. His foot went to the brake pedal. Then the truck smashed his small Saturn SL2 and stopped it cold.
Bystanders ran up to the wreckage. “I feel all right,” Nelson told them. “Just get my baby.”
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