It was an early spring Saturday morning in Vicksburg, Mississippi, and I was living in the Pleasant Valley subdivision east of Highway 61 South, roughly a mile from the Mississippi River.

They have since built two schools west of the location of my first incident.

This part of the state is mostly rolling hills, hollows, and it's covered with many trees,

plus greenery as far as the eye can see.

I was looking forward to taking each child out for a go-car ride that day because it was spring break for them.

My two sons from my first marriage had come to live with us last summer and I also have two step-daughters that are also close to them in their ages plus a newborn son.

My plan was to start out with my oldest son since he had missed out on a few years with me.

On this day, instead of just going down to the end of the cul-de-sac like I would normally do with them,

to the edge of the woods where I would spin a few donuts in the dirt and then let them drive back

to the yard for the next driver.

I decided to take my son out of the yard for the next driver.

I decided to take my son out of the subdivision a few hundred yards back down the main road. I had seen a gated path, overgrown with weeds and shrubbery leading into the thick forest and I figured this

would be a nice place to check it out with him allowing us an extended ride together and from

there we could drive all the way back.

I headed out on to Dana Road, driving west along the gravel shoulder to go around this locked

gate giving us access to this closed road.

I was swerving back and forth on the narrow path all the while enjoying watching the

excitement in my son's eyes as he was scanning the surrounding trees.

We were heading deeper into the dense forest,

and after several minutes I could see a clearing up ahead,

which looked like white enough for me to do a donut.

And this was where I could let him drive.

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