The Clements

This is a sad tale. When I was in third grade one of my classmates didn't come to school one day and we were told that he had been killed in an automobile accident over the weekend. In those days there was no grief counselling, and we didn't get out of school early so we could come to grips with our grief with our parents' counsel.

Danny Clements was a neat kid. He was a little chunky, but he was good at ball and I always wanted to be on his team because his team usually won (on the school playground). He and I (and others) would have contests to see who could swing the highest.

Danny and his family (his mother, his father, his sister, Barbara) lived near us on Central Avenue.

It seems that they were on their way home from somewhere, can't remember where, but it was on Sunday night that the accident occurred. His father and sister were also killed. His mom lived for quite a while. She was in the hospital for a long time, I recall, and she was a semi-invalid the rest of her life.

She (and the family) were part of our church family. We looked out for her after she came home from the hospital. I would go over and bring her things from my mom. She was always pleasant, but sad.

I really didn't know until I got home that Danny wasn't the only one who died that night.

My dad conducted the funeral for the three members of the family who died. I don't recall attending it.

So tragedy can occur at any age, I suppose. And this was just another time my dad shook his head and said "murder weapons, that's what cars are, murder weapons."