This story happened a long time ago, in 1985. I don’t remember it, just some pictures. I know this story much more not from my memories, but from the stories of my parents.

We interrupted the road, or the pipes were changing, or something else – there was a deep pit, well, the earth was rolling that, there, here. We, the other children, around this pit, my parents nearby talk about something. So then.

A motorcyclist flies at an enormous speed, and whether it is a stone from excavating it to him under the wheel, or it is a whirlwind to get around - it is not a matter, it flies off the motorcycle, it flies in a cube, the motorcycle on the road cutting scars bounces. And some shit from a motorcyclist flies away and flies into the same hole, falls. My daughter and I followed the hernia that flew away, the adults let us help the motorcyclist, pulled him off to the stop, trying to provide first aid.

We quickly found what flew away in the pit, we get to the motorcyclist.

“Uncle, here’s your prosthesis, and we stretch him... his leg below his knee. And the uncle is in shock, white and unconscious.