Ronald Adams was leaving Brooklyn for three months to drive to California. He said his goodbyes to his mother. She made sure he knew not to pick up any strangers, fall asleep, or drive fast. Their close bond together made it hard for his mom to see him leave.
That morning I was going across the Brooklyn Bridge when I saw a man. He was a thin, nondescript, with a cap pulled over his eyes and had an overnight bag in one hand. Right as Adams was passing the man he stepped off the sidewalk. If he hadn't swerved he would of hit him.
About an hour later Adams spotted the man again between Harrisburg and Pittsburgh. He was in a tunnel standing under an arc light by the road. As Adams passed the man "Hall-ooo" echoed through the tunnel.
Adam asked a girl on the side of the road if she needed a ride. She said she needs a ride to Amarillo, Texas. A while later he pointed out the man and crashed into a barbed wire fence. The girl got freaked out and slammed the door and left.
Once he reached Gallup, New Mexico he stopped at an auto camp. Adams went inside and picked up the telephone. He dialed his moms number.
A random woman answered the phone. Adams asked where his mom was and she said she was still in the hospital from a nervous breakdown. "It was all from the death of her oldest son Ronald. He was killed six days ago in an accident on Brooklyn Bridge," Mrs. Whitney said.