Well, at about 9 in the morning, I was driving north on Highway 51. I thought then that I was going to Rockford to pick up a cousin of mine and bring him back to Champaign for the summer because there was a job for him at the place where I work and he has a hook-up with a guy who supplies the most ridiculously good weed. However, looking back at the google map of my journey, I realize that I was also on the shortest road to another town- Damascus, IL. Make of it what you will. The fact remains that I, tired as a dog and woefully hungover, nodded off for a split second and swerved off the road entirely. I wasn't wearing a seatbelt, and I whacked my head pretty good against the steering wheel when the car bumped its way off the road. At that moment- when I thought myself near death- I was blinded by a head-splitting burst of white light. I stopped the car and stepped out, trying to look and see if I'd hurt anything, but everything was kind of blurry. At this point, a white car of some kind stopped at the side of the road, and someone got out- I couldn't see his face or anything, but he screamed "Man, why you hatin'?!" Or something like that, and then drove off. I am certain- absolutely certain- that that was Jesus Christ, my personal and ultimate redeemer and savior, in the flesh. My head cleared after a little while, no one else stopped, and I turned back onto the road- at which point I headed back to Champaign. I stopped in for the first service at the First Presbyterian Church of Urbana, where they were baptizing this little girl. I cried a little and recognized that I wanted to be baptized as well, and then realized that I'd already been baptized at birth. So I went over to the Mennonite church, where they let you do these things twice, and they re-baptized me pretty happily after hearing my story. Then I promised God that I would never be a hater again, and went home to read my bible.