It was about 16 years ago that I had organised an evening trip for work to Wakefield Theatre.  This also involved dropping everyone off afterward at their homes and then taking the minibus home with me.

The following morning, my eldest son Ben was swimming in the school gala at Spenborough Swimming Baths.  He was a dedicated and excellent swimmer, competing regularly for the Borough of Kirklees.  Ben was ready early to get to the gala, and I had promised to drop him off on the way to work.

We left home in the minibus, it was rotten weather, windy and had been raining for days.  Arriving at the baths, I decided to run him down into the car park, because the road he had to cross was busy and as mentioned the weather was terrible.

I maneuvered across the road and down into the car park.  There is a pedestrian bridge, which you have to drive under into the car park.  The measurement sign on the bridge was precise; I was 100% positive that my minibus height left plenty room to pass under the bridge.

MISTAKE

I began to drive under, and there was the most horrendous noise, as the roof was ripped as it caught the bridge.  Pulling up with a start, my son just said, ‘thanks, mum,’ leaped out and left me sat there.  Stupidly, instead of backing out, I drove forward, and it is not rocket science that this made it much worse and the roof was severely damaged.

I panicked and phoned my husband, who has a minibus business.  He thought he had misheard me, ‘you have done what?’, then,   ‘I am on my way.’

When he arrived, he stood and looked and was speechless, then he asked, ‘how did you do that.’  “it’s bloody obvious how I did it’, I responded in tears.  The banking up to the road was deep in mud, because of the weather.  The only way to get the bus out was to drive back under the bridge.  The right side of the bridge slightly sloped higher.  He let some air out of the tyres, and we were able to drive the bus out.

To this day, every time I go into a car park or under any barrier, I duck.