Grandpa's first Mission

Lessons sometime come in ways we seldom expect. When I served my mission in Geneva Switzerland back in the 1960s the Church decided to authorize the missionaries to purchase motor bikes. Every missionary that I knew had one and my companion was no exception. As a new missionary, I wrote home and told my folks about it and they sent me the money to buy a new bike. So my companion took me over the border into France, which was part of our mission, to buy a French made Mobilette.


Licenses were not required to operate one of these low powered motorbikes. As Americans we were not familiar with European driving rules and regulations anyway, so that didn’t seem to matter much.

On one particular day my companion and I had an appointment on the other side of town. As was our practice, I followed my companion a few yards behind because he knew his way around and I was still getting my bearings. The cardinal rule of driving in France and Switzerland in those days was essentially a defensive one. Simple and easy to remember: “Priorité á droit!” or the person on the right has the right-of-way. I knew this rule as my companion hammered it into me quite thoroughly. What I didn’t realize was that this rule always applies, no matter what, even for a small truck exiting an alley.

So here I am tooling along behind my companion who had managed to get about 30 yards ahead of me. And this guy pulls out of an alley in his small delivery truck a deux cheveaux (like the one driven by Inspector Clouseau of the Pink Panther movies). He didn’t look to his left… after all why should he look, he had the right of way… right?

It all happened so fast I had no time to react. My right knee hit the front of his fender which catapulted me over his hood leaving my bike to take the full brunt of the impact with the front of his mini truck. Whether it was my tumbling experience from my High School days, or the manner in which the collision took place, or the Lord watching over me, I cannot say… probably all of the above. But I just landed in such a way that I rolled on my shoulders and came to my feet. Turning about I began to walk back to the truck driver’s window. To discuss with him what had happened. By the time I reached his window, the pain in my knee hit me and I crumpled passed out to the pavement.

I next awoke finding myself in an ambulance sort of floating along. At the hospital they X-rayed my knee and determined that it was only bruised. When my companion finally showed up, I realized that he hadn’t heard any noise behind him so he continued on without looking back. He recounted his version of what had happened.

He had arrived at our appointment and turned to wait for me to show up After what seemed like an eternity, he decided he had better back track and see what had become of me. When he saw the police car and the crowd, he made his way through the throng. When he saw my mangled crumpled bike in front of the deux cheveaux still sitting where it all had occurred, I can only imagine the panic that came over him when he began to inquire as to the condition of the rider of the bike. A woman standing near didn’t help his matters when she asked, oozing pity, “C’était ton ami?” – “It was your friend?”

The police informed him as to what hospital they had transported me giving no information as to my condition. He then beat a path there only to find me sitting on an examination table laughing and OK.

What did we learn that day?

1. To obey all traffic laws even though you may not believe that they apply in all circumstances.
2. Always keep your companion in sight.
3. That the French language has another use of the second person singular form tu-toi-ton. Normally it is reserved for close family and friends and as a form of reverence as in addressing our Heavenly Father. But thee, thou, thy are also used to denote pity or deep caring for the person being addressed. Hence she said “C’était ton ami?” rather than “C’était votre ami?”

Elder Arnold A. Miller