Left the house this morning in plenty of time to make our 6:09 flight to Washington for the AFT Healthcare Professional Issues Conference.
I hit the first pothole about 2 miles from my house, a big one that jarred us awake.
About 2 miles later the first warning light came on……
low tire pressure.
We pulled over at a gas station on the CT/RI state line and checked.
Had about 11 pounds of pressure about then.
And, you could hear the remaining air leaking out of the tire.
Great, now I’m worried about missing he flight.
Changed to the little donut tire (not an easy task) and hit the road again.
OK, it will be tight, but we can still do this.
I hit the second pothole when I hit the route 6 bypass in Johnson.
I had already thought I should pull over before I got to the interstate and just check the donut tire (it needed air back at the gas station.)
Now I was sure I should.
Almost flat.
Great, now what.
My heart started bounding in that way like it did the first time you lost your mom in a clothing store.
Michelle talked me off the ledge.
Call AAA.
After several minutes they understood where we were and said they could get a truck to us by 5:10 and there was a tire place nearby that they could tow us to.
But it didn’t open till 7:00.
I guess we could leave the car with a note and Uber to the airport?
Now, what about the flight?
I was on the phone with a lovey woman with a British accent when the tow truck arrived.
She had rebooked us onto a 9:15 flight.
The gentleman on the tow truck heard our story, asked were we needed to get and where we lived.
Turns out he lives in our town, not far from us, and BTW, knows which pothole (the first one) I was speaking about.
As he’s loading up the car he’s trying to figure some way to get us to the airport on time. Actually said he’d take us except they don’t let him take the truck that far.
As he’s driving to the tire place (that opens at 7:00) he has a thought.
He calls a friend who owns a nearby garage.
The friend is in early today.
He says stop by, he’ll see what he can do.
The garage owner tries to plug the tire (the first one, not the donut)
It doesn’t hold.
He looks in the end of the garage.
“I got one we can use, slightly different size, but it will get you where you need to go.”
He changes the tire as the tow driver gets ready to leave (now that he’s assured we’re in good hands)
I catch the driver and try to give him $20 bucks.
He refuses.
He says give it to him, gesturing to the guy who owns the garage who is busy changing my tire.
I don’t know what to say.
A few minutes later the tire is changed and he also bangs out a dent in the donut tire rim, fills it with air and puts it in my trunk.
“Thanks a lot man, what do I owe you?”
“Nothing, have a good day. I’m not even officially open yet.”
Again, I don’t know what to say.
I tell him to tow driver wouldn’t take any money either.
He shrugs.
I thrust $40 into his hand and tell him to buy his buddy a coffee.
And off to the airport we go for a 9:15 flight.
I‘m truly at a loss for words.
I know a lot of real nice, real generous people.
My friends are like this.
But the generosity of these two strangers who treated us like family was so unexpected.
I often deal with people who are out for themselves, looking to maximize profits even if it means hurting other people.
Today on the road to Warwick, I met my Higher Power………not once, but twice.
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