Elm Street was ablaze with flashing lights—blues and reds rotating on light bars mounted on an array of emergency vehicles. The wake of chaos that trailed the red Thunderbird flushed Elm Street’s residents from their houses and deposited them onto front yards and sidewalks. Some who had been enjoying a lazy Sunday morning were still in bathrobes, others, fully dressed, held coffee mugs and watched with dismay. All kept a respectful distance. Most didn’t speak, but when they did, words were exchanged in hushed voices.
Elm Street was ablaze Black and gray Highway Patrol cruisers took up positions at intersections on either end of the accident scene, diverted civilian traffic and directed emergency vehicles. A heavy-set man with a red face stood next to a fire truck speaking excitedly into h
