Did I ever tell you about the time I almost died? It was a frigid Michigan winter in 1981, and I was 6 years old. My dad and I were driving over an S-shaped bridge when we hit a patch of black ice and our car veered out of control. Dad recovered just in time to hit a second patch of ice, sending us through the guardrails and into the gelid river below.

We hit the water, and the car began to sink. Dad grabbed my hand and opened his door. But as the river rushed into the passenger compartment, I panicked and squirted out of his grasp. I went to my own door and desperately struggled to get it open. In a moment, the car was completely submerged, and I was gasping in a quickly thinning slot of air just under the roof.