Dear Ann Landers,
nother terrible accident occurred last week-end. My husband, a state trooper, was so sick when he came home, he had to go to bed. Please print the enclosed column again. Thank you.

Dear Ohio,
There was a bad one in Illinois, too. Thanks for asking. Here it is: How to Make a Trooper Cry Want to see a state trooper cry? Would you like to see him bury his face in his hands, bawl like a baby and slam his fist into the side of his pa-trol car? It's easy. Start by refusing to listen when your wife suggests that she drive. Don't be a wimp. Assert yourself. Say, "Aw heck, I can drive the car better with a few beers under my belt than you can cold sober." Show her who's boss. Twenty minutes later, you are standing in the dark on the side of the highway with broken glass and spilled gasoline all around. Your wife is screaming, pinned beneath jagged edges of twisted metal. Your 2-year-old daughter is silent. Your 6-year-old son is sprawled face-down 30 feet away. The highway trooper smelled the alcohol on your breath when you tried to explain, and he's not very gentle as he pushes you into the rear of the patrol car and tells you to shut your mouth. Then he pauses for a moment to wipe away his tear before he turns his attention to what is left of your car and your family. Congratulations. You've made a troo* -ry.