Back in the late 1890's when my mom was 21 and had just married my father, who was 23 at the time, they bought a house in a peaceful village.

My mother, who was originally from the village where they purchased their first home and my father, who was from the next village over, met at the carnival and it was love at first sight.

My dad did well on his job, he was able to purchase a car, which was a huge deal at the time. He purchased a 1893 Shamrock which he had imported from Canada. 

Being proud of his car my dad would regularly go to his hometown on the weekends and see his friends on a Friday, get drunk and drive home back to mum. This was a common thing back then, I mean, why else would you need a car at that time.

Between the two villages was a river which was notorious for accidents and deaths, claiming 5-10 lives a year due to people driving in the water and people drowning. It was the only bridge between the two villages and nearby main roads meaning it was a popular road.

One Friday night, my dad had been out drinking and was driving home in the early hours of the morning along the river. He lost control of the Shamrock, and veered into the river.

Once in the river my dad couldn't get his waist belt loose, it was quite old and the water almost instantly jammed it. After some struggling, the car was almost entirely submerged in the water, he finally managed to reach into the dashboard and grab his knife, cut himself loose and swum back to the shore.

Cold, wet and very disoriented, my dad decided to walk to a nearby house to seek help. As he was brought up in the area, he was familiar with the family who owned the house and they took him in and made up the spare bedroom for him, gave him fresh clothes and dried him. As my dad was very intoxicated, he had become oblivious to the fact my mum could be wondering where he was.

The next day he woke up and left early in the morning trying not to disturb the family who had let him in. When he left the house he noticed several police wagons parked alongside the river and an ambulance-wagon. Too embarrassed, my dad jogged the 2-3 miles home, he didn't want the police to know it was he who was driving the car that was in the river, even though they’d find out soon enough as the car was very unique and one of his kind in that village.

My dad got near home and realised he had a lot of explaining to do to my mum. He walked around the corner of his street and saw a police wagon parked outside the house.  Oh shit they’ve got me he thought, knowing he had to face the music.

My dad walked in the house to notice two police officers comforting my mum who was crying and very upset. His mother (my grandma) was there too and noticed my dad and was stunned to see him there. Once my mum saw him, well she went fucking crazy at my dad asking where he had been, who’s clothes he was wearing and who was it who was in the car with him.

My dad confused, said no one was in the car with him. He was alone driving back. One of the police officers then informed my dad that a man’s body matching his description was retrieved from the car earlier that morning.

There was a silence when my dad said he had been alone. Even though he was drunk he was adamant that nobody else got into his car that night.

The body was taken away and was never identified. Missing person records were checked, originally they thought it may have been a man who matched the description who went missing from London but the dental records didn’t match.

The family who took my father in were questioned and there was no suspicion of foul play.

It’s safe to say that my parents have avoided that river road ever since.

I think of visiting that river one day, I am an avid swimmer.