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They went to daycare together. They played in the dirt together at Pee Wee baseball games. They started kindergarten together, then on to middle school and, finally, high school.

And now they've graduated together.

As I watched the seniors on class night, at baccalaureate and again for graduation, I thought of how far this group of kids has traveled ... and how far yet there is to go. My oldest child is one of them.

I was so deep in thought - reading a book about evil and the justice of God, that when my cell phone rang, I flinched. It was my wife, Lori: "I thought this weekend would be a great time for a garage sale," she informed me.

It wasn't the news I wanted to hear.

"Why?" I pleaded, glancing at the book about evil and the justice of God, trying to resist the temptation of associating the first word of the book with garage sales.

Anyone else consider unplugging their home phones? For such a shallow pool of primary candidates, there certainly have been a lot of pre-recorded messages on my answering machine these past few weeks. On Monday, we erased eight messages. I haven't even bothered to count all of the postcards I have received in the mail.

Thankfully, the deluge is over for a while.

It was a grizzly scene. The carnage almost didn't look real, from the twisted metal and the broken glass to the mixture of red and blue emergency lights.

The man was trapped inside for nearly two hours ... two hours of sitting in the middle of that carnage without being able to move. I can't imagine.

I wasn't one of the first on the scene of the crash, but I was one of few members of the public who saw it firsthand.

From my last report, the man, Ronnie Steven Pittman, was in stable condition at University of Louisville Hospital.