Dysfunctional family tree

          It is not accurate to say "my dysfunctional family" unless I include myself, as I am a family member. I'm supposed to be the one who takes fewer chances and does not take risk for "risk sake." However, I exposed my dysfuntionality last week. This mea culpa concerns a recent knocking noise from the rear of my car. It started at the beginning of the week as a soft patter and continued as I drove it. I checked the wheel well and the fender was a little loose. That must be it. I looked at the lug nuts and none were missing. I checked the Internet and got some info on "rear differential." Last Thursday morning the patter turned to chatter, then clatter, then knocking. As I approached the I-205 Bridge, a multi-lane 3-mile long arch over the Columbia River, the knocking intensified in noise and frequency. It sounded like someone was beating the undercarriage with a jack hammer. I was traveling south at about 55 mph when the left rear wheel flew off. I did not immediately see the wheel, but the sudden caving in of the left rear, the crunching sound of the wheel drum gauging the concrete, and the overall sensation of me now driving a speed boat in rough water, left no doubt I was on three wheels. I looked to my right and saw a guy gasp and accelerate, letting me into that lane; the next lane was clear so I scraped into that one, and then finally rested on the shoulder of the road, two feet from a short concrete wall, beyond which was a 100-foot drop into the Columbia. I told my kids to always immediately take a car into a shop if they hear strange noises. It was something I should have done three days later and waiting it out almost turned my car into a casket. Oh, and the wheel? I watched it bound 30-feet into the air, then come down bouncing into the northbound (5-lanes) traffic of I-205. Thankfully it did come to rest, but a guy drove over it and got two flat tires.  Oh yeah, cost for repairs was $869 (I had to buy four new tires as well).