My husband and I were taking some girls to my home town for the first time. When we were a couple of miles from the town, we parked the car by the side of the road and began to walk. When we reached the town, I stopped to get the mail. The others were looking at the few stores (which were very different from the actual stores there). In the post office the woman was talking to me (I knew her, but I don't know now who she was). She asked me if we were all right. I said we were, but thought it was a queer question to ask. Then I heard that there had been an accident a couple of miles out of town. It was our car and they thought that we had been in it when the truck hit it, demolishing it.