I was at the edge of the street in front of Grandpa's house in my hometown.  There were kids playing all up and down the street -- some of them in the street -- and quite a few people in their yards.  It was just about dusk.  To my horror, a car came around the corner and struck a little girl about 2 years old, who was playing in the street in front of the Creagers' house.  It hit her just hard enough to knock her down so her head hit the pavement.  I felt awful-I couldn't even bear to go see how the little girl was, for fear she might be dead.  Then a car came along at a faster speed and straddled another little girl who was lying down in the street.  I held my breath and hoped the underside of the car would clear her.  Again I was horrified to see that she had disappeared when the car had passed.  She was carried somehow all the way to the end of the block, and there she came loose.  Even though it was almost dark, I could see her fall, and hear the sickening thumps as she hit the pavement and the car ran over her.  I was practically hysterical; I ran into the street in the paths of other oncoming cars, to stop them and tell them to slow down.  I never did stop them, though, because I was too afraid to stay in front of them-the most I could do was slow them down a little bit, then yell at the driver to slow down because two little girls had already been hit.  Of course the cars had passed before I could get that all out; they didn't seem to pay much attention to me, and I found I couldn't shout very loudly.  A very tall fellow, apparently a church acquaintance, possibly Joe Short, arrived on the scene and asked me if he could give me "any support."  He kept asking me this, and although we certainly needed help slowing down the cars, I was reluctant to ask him for any favors for fear he had ulterior motives, being associated with the church.  I went into Grandpa's house and into a bedroom-either to see how one of the little girls was or to talk to someone who was in bed there.  The church guy followed me, as did two little neighbor girls, one of whom was Beth Hooper.  The other one was about her age.  One of them kept talking to me about astronauts, and the other (Beth, I think) about one she had met who was an admitted homosexual.  I finally got annoyed at listening to them, since I had the fate of these other two little girls on my mind, so I told them politely that I would talk to them later about astronauts.  When I went back outside, several barriers had been set up in the intersection.  They were painted with red chevrons and flooded with light.  They didn't block the street entirely, but at least they served as an efficient speed breaker.