My dad used to do the graveyard shift at his radio station while he was going to school at Weber State College. He was a really hard worker, going to college and also working to support our family. We didn't have a lot of money, and we only ever had one car, and sometimes even that didn't work. So my dad used to ride his bike to work all the time. Maybe to school too, I don't know.
I remember one night there was something going on. I think my mom might have left, I'm not sure. I knew something was wrong, at any rate. It turns out that my dad was riding his bike home from work in the middle of the night, and while he was looking to see if he could make a turn, he missed seeing a sign and ended up crashing into it. As a result, he had a broken finger. I think that's how it went down. Just remember, I was a little kid who only heard bits and pieces of things sometimes.
My dad really went through a lot taking care of all of us.
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