I pushed on through the mountains, the Chevy Lumina taking the curves with surprising accuracy. Snow lay along the roads as I watched for black ice on the interstate.
I had hit black ice before, when I was about 20. I exited Atlanta’s I-285 at Doraville, heading home from a concert in Marietta. About 20 feet onto the circular ramp, the car spun out of control. Using wh...