Nfnsng - No Fear, No Shame, No Guilt

When I was 19 I was a complete nut case behind the wheel. I was seriously dangerous. Although I had never been in an accident as a result, I should have been many times over. When I look back now I am horrified! On this day in 1972, however, I was driving in a uncharacteristically safe manner.

Pictured above is what was left of my 1967 Mustang after a head on collision w another car while on my way from my day job to my night job. The other driver and I were going through an intersection from opposing directions. He wanted to turn left in front of me but there was a car in front of him so he swerved from behind the car into my lane. Just as we both entered the intersection we collided at about 30 mph each which was, according to physics, is equivalent to colliding w an immovable object, i.e. a concrete wall, at 60 mph. 

Both my knees took out the dash instruments where they impacted and my face hit the windshield. The recoil tore my seat completely off it’s tracks. I flew back and then forward again. When it was all done the transmission was partly in my lap. I did a quick survey of my body and couldn’t find any apparent injury…at least that’s what I thought.

I had sunglasses on during the accident and when I reached up to remove them after the accident they wouldn’t come off. I pulled and pulled and finally broke them free. Immediately, blood gushed everywhere. What had happened was, when I impacted the windshield the bridge piece on my sunglasses embedded itself in the bony part of my nose. When I pulled them free it was like taking the cork out of a down turned bottle of red wine because the bridge piece had broken clear through to the marrow. Fortunately, that was the only injury I received.

Curiously, as I was holding my sunglasses and finally got the blood out of my eyes I noticed that the bows and the frames were nearly flat. What had happened was, I hit the windshield w such force that momentum caused the bows and frames of my sunglasses to take on the curvature of the window. W that much impact I cannot, for the life of me, understand how I didn’t go through the windshield. Incredible!

After my car was towed away and I was dismissed from the scene by the police, I went home, called my co-worker and asked if they could come pick me up so that I could go to my night job. I finished out the evening w my night job and felt no ill effects except for severe nausea when ever I thought about how my beautiful Mustang was, needless to say, totaled. 

I was sued by the other driver because I had been ticketed for driving too fast for conditions. I hired an attorney who proved in court, via police evidence, that I was traveling at 30 mph and it was clear and sunny at the time of the accident, and that the other driver turned left in front of an oncoming vehicle. I had hired the attorney to defend me in the suit brought against me by the other driver and to sue the other driver for damages. The ticket was dismissed and I won the suite but my attorney received 2/3 of my winnings because of the double representation. His name was Pete Velde. ~ Trabue Gentry

Photographed by Trabue Gentry, 1972

The Boogie Man

This is not fiction. This is a true story that happened to me. This sort of thing, and much worse, goes on all over the world every day. We’re supposed to protect our children, not abuse them.

I think the most amazing thing my father did for me was to teach me to be unmaterialistic. When I was 12, dad told me to clean my room. But I was busy doing kid stuff. A little later he told me once more. But still I was busy doing kid stuff. The third time did the trick. He ordered me to remove all personal items from my room leaving only my furniture, clothes and school materials. He then ordered me to take all these silly materialistic things down stairs and outside to the burn barrel and set them on fire. I learned not to be materialistic as I watched all my model cars, books, fan magazines, National Geographics, records, drawings, carvings, bug collection, indian arrow head collection, museum souvenirs, transistor radio, photographs, post cards, pen pal letters…all those those material things that I “thought” were important to me, go up in smoke. I also quickly learned to become very philosophical that day. And yes, my room was spotless and much easier to take care of after that. It was that day that I found out the boogie man didn’t live under my bed. He was married to my mother.

Footnote: Unfortunately, my father was a cruel and sadistic man who thoroughly enjoyed his perversion. What I find unbelievable is that I truly loved him and did everything I could to gain his approval. ~ Trabue Gentry

Gender Slander

We live in a world of self-perpetuating separatism. I don't approve of all the jokes men tell about women and women tell about men, things like the T-shirts that say "Men make the games. Women make the rules". These may seem like harmless jokes but they're not. They're inflammatory and only serve to perpetuate the pointless battle between the sexes. They are no different in their effect as racial slurs and jokes. We should appreciate our differences in gender rather than overt attacks on the opposite gender though degrading, tongue-in-cheek jokes. To what useful end is this constant need to point out the negative aspects of gender difference. ~ Trabue Gentry

Downtown Nashville, Tennessee in the early hours. Photography by Trabue Gentry, 1978