83. Missed It By A Hair
When my mother was a child, she had a bad habit of reading while walking to school. One day she was jerked to a stop by someone—she assumed it was her brother—pulling her ponytail hard enough to pull her back a couple of steps. She turned around to yell at whoever pulled her hair and no one was there, or for blocks behind her.
She turned back to step across the street and, just as she was about to walk, a car came out of nowhere. If she hadn’t turned to yell at the nonexistent hair puller, she would have been hit and probably lost her life.