In November of 1998, as my ex-husband and I were preparing to travel to Texas for a Thanksgiving holiday family reunion, I received a call from my mother informing me that my twin brothers had been in a terrible, near fatal, car accident in Pennsylvania. I was born and raised in Pennsylvania, but have lived in Albuquerque, New Mexico for 36 years now. Needless to say, I cancelled my trip to Texas and was on a plane to Pittsburgh the next day to visit my mother and brothers. My brothers had been taken to a hospital in Pittsburgh and both were in critical condition.

I have flown to Pittsburgh many times throughout the years, however, the airport is north of the city and I have never actually been in downtown Pittsburgh, much less driven through there at night. My hometown, where my mother lives, is 60 miles north of Pittsburgh. My flight arrived in the early evening. I picked up my rental car and proceeded to drive on the interstate toward Pittsburgh to get to the hospital. Because everything had happened so fast and I was operating on adrenaline, I only knew the name of the hospital and didn't have directions on how to get there. It was quickly getting very dark by the time I approached the exit toward downtown Pittsburgh. If you have never been to Pittsburgh, it's quite an experience to find out there are many bridges, tunnels, hills, twists and turns. Especially at night. It seemed very ominous.

My father passed away unexpectedly in 1984 at the age of 62. He had been born near Pittsburgh and had many occasions to travel there on business and to visit family so he was familiar with the area. I will reiterate that I was not. It never occurred to me to stop and ask for directions to the hospital. I just knew that I had to get there to be with my brothers as soon as possible. As I exited the interstate, I spoke out loud and said, "Dad, you know Pittsburgh. Please get me to the hospital."

Instantly, I felt entirely at peace as if he was with me driving the car. I was simply behind the wheel of the car. I remember going across bridges, through tunnels, up and down hills, all the while thinking to myself, "This can't be the right way to go," but I was not afraid. It seemed as if the car made its way through the maze of downtown Pittsburgh and through residential areas for over an hour or so, but I just kept going. Suddenly, after going up a very steep hill, there was the hospital right in front of me. I know I did not find it myself. I proceeded to the parking garage, all the while thanking my angelic father (or perhaps my guardian angel) for guiding me to the hospital. I visited both of my brothers and stayed through the next day while they were having surgery.

Later that day, I drove the 60 miles north to my hometown to be with my mother. She and I drove to the hospital the next day in broad daylight and got lost trying to find the hospital!

My brothers survived although they are disabled. Every time I go back home to visit my angel Father at the cemetery, I thank him for getting me to the hospital on time.