Dan Eads is my father. He was injured 28 years ago today, along with my mother, Edith Wise Eads, who was killed. My parents were the pedestrians in a auto-pedestrian crash. Daddy’s injuries were repaired in a 14-hour surgery. The next morning my sister and I told him that his wife of 38 years was gone. It was the drunk driver’s second DWI. Daddy lived another 21 years, the last nine with me.
— Kathy Eads