Late spring in 1974 I was hitch-hiking north on a secondary highway in the Finger Lakes Region of upstate New York when a truck-driver, driving an 18-wheeler, picked me up. He was a burly, cigar-smoking but friendly man. When he first picked me up it was a sunny day. There was a sudden rain shower and then the sun came out again. I mentioned that we might see a rainbow and we both began to look out the windows. Suddenly, he yanked the wheel to the right, slammed on his brakes, brought the truck to a stop and jumped out of the cab while yelling at me to "get out of the truck!" For some reason, I thought he was going to hit me. I jumped out of the truck, ran around to the front where he had gone and I asked "What's wrong?" He pointed into the sky and shouted "Look!" There were seven rainbows, one on top of the other, each as brilliant as you please. The end of the lowest rainbow was at the edge of the water of one of the lakes, about 20 feet from where we stood. I have seen a variety of rainbows. I have seen double rainbows and even a few triple rainbows. But this is the only time I have seen seven rainbows, and I'm 60 years old.