Just a typical Wednesday morning in the summer, I drop my girls off at their dad’s house and get on the highway headed to work. Five minutes down the road and it feels really bumpy. My first thought is that the pavement was under construction and it would smooth out soon. But, it didn’t, so I changed lanes to see if that would make it better. It didn’t. So, I pulled over to the shoulder to check my tires. I also thought I might be dragging something under my car. My rear left tire was completely blown, side walls and all. Like rim was on the road blown!
Cars are whizzing by. I get back in my driver’s seat and I call my dad. My rolodex started turning. Was he in town? What do I do?
He picks up the phone, asks where I am, and says he’s on his way. Praise the Lord! I didn’t have my girls, I didn’t get hit, my car didn’t lose control. The tire looked awful. Still no idea what or how this happened. My tires were relatively new.
About ten minutes after hanging up with Dad, a white truck pulls up behind me. I assume it’s him. Nope, it’s two guys. One covered in tattoos and the other looked like an older white haired construction worker. The guy in tattoos comes up to my window smiling and says “Looks like you could use some help.” The other guy stands behind my car. My heart starts to race. I didn’t know what to do and felt a bit cornered and helpless. Matter of fact, I was.
I rolled my window down a smidge and thanked them both, but told them my dad was on his way. He said “Well, if you have a spare, we can put it on for you…”, (rolling window up) “Where’s your jack?” I responded sheepishly, “I don’t know. I need to wait on my dad”. Do I let them? Would Dad be upset if I let them start the repairs first? Would he be upset if I didn’t? Were they safe? I really didn’t know. I just felt lucky to be alive with my tire the way it was.
They got back in their truck…. and waited. They didn’t leave. They waited until my dad and stepmom got there. And, when I left the scene in the car they brought me to drive to work (another blessing), the guy covered in tattoos was lying flat on his back under my car… helping my dad.
They really wanted to help. So much so, that they waited on my dad to get there to see if he needed any. Complete strangers.
Another awesome reminder that we can never judge a book by it’s cover. They just wanted to help and I am so thankful for people like them. I was scared. My heart was racing for what could have happened and what might happen.
God bless them both today, wherever they are. Thanks to my dad, my blow out happened at 7:45 and my tire was fixed by 9:05. Thanks to God, I’m able to write about what happened.