I was right hooked on my bike a couple of years ago, but there is nothing really to tell, there. I didn't go down, and the driver was extremely apologetic. We both agreed we'd learned something!

The real story, with me to this day, was back in 1965 when my younger brother and I went fishing in my dad's brand new 13 foot Boston Whaler. We weren't on a lake or a river or out to sea or anything like that, but were on an inlet on Long Island and were staying close to home. We were trolling, so the boat was always in gear and moving. As I remember, we favored the shallows, thinking any fish were probably under docks or in saw grass or other kinds of cover. That put us close to those obstructions.

My brother was driving (I know, "piloting") initially, but he was a nervous type back then and was getting upset about being so close to shore and other things. So, I told him I'd drive, he could fish. The Whaler had bench seats, and wheel was on the right side. I stood up behind my brother as he stood to move out of the way. He was chattering about drifting towards a nearby dock when the next thing I knew I was looking up at my feet as I was landing in the water over the stern of the boat! I came up for air thinking about how he was going to be in trouble with my mom and dad when I told them he'd made me fall out of the boat. That thought vanished just that fast when I saw he'd ALSO fallen out of the boat, and that the thing was running at full speed in a tight right hand circle. He was on the opposite side of the circle from me. I didn't have much time to gather this in because the boat was right on top of me, and I remember swimming furiously backwards and ducking - and it missed me somehow. When I came up again, I saw that my brother had grabbed the gunwale, back by the stern. I screamed at him to "let go, get away....!!" You can imagine. In a split second he was gone, and I had enough time to think "it got him". Then he reappeared, screaming "it hit me, it hit me!". My thoughts were oh my god, he's torn up, he's going to die, and there wasn't anything I could do, because the boat was circling wildly between the two of us.

Somehow, someway, we both got away from the spinning boat. I managed to get a hold of him and pull him up onto the nearby dock. When were both out of the water, I saw, on his right leg, from his hip to his ankle, six cuts - not deep, but bleeding - from where the prop had GRAZED him.

I fainted. I did.

When I came around, a sizable crowd had gathered. Someone hooked a rope on the boat and then someone else got another on to it, and when the boat was just so in it's circle, they heaved on the ropes and caused it to overturn, stopping it.

That nightmare was over.

My brother was fine, just superficial cuts on his leg. The boat was a little worse for wear, and my parents didn't even scold us.

It's remembering times like that when you surprise yourself that you survived being a child!