Skip to main content

The Kindness Of Strangers

  We were zooming northbound towards home, on the I-65 through Michigan, when the car's battery light came on.

Then we noticed smoke billowing out the back.

I thought for sure the batteries were on fire, as they are located in the trunk, and that we were all going to go up in smoke and flames right there on the highway.

We immediately pulled off at the next exit, at a small town called Capac.

We thankfully made it to the parking lot of a Love's Gas Station, complete with McDonald's, Chester's Chicken, and convenience store.

There was a dark, rusty brown fluid leaking from the engine and pooling beside the curb.

It looked like our car had popped a vein and was bleeding out.

We didn't know what to do.

There we were, just after 3 o'clock in the afternoon, virtually stranded in the parking lot at a Love's Gas Station.

It was a freezing cold, windy, grey November day.

We called our trusty friends, the CAA, or the AAA stateside.

We had just joined recently, after a flyer came in the mail a few weeks before.

We hadn't even planned our trip yet, but thought it may be a good idea just to be a member anyway.

The CAA/AAA lady who answered the phone was very nice and sympathetic.  She listened to our story, and then promised us a tow truck would be there very soon.  She then told us of a couple of CAA/AAA approved mechanic garages that were within a few miles distance.  The tow truck could tow us there, and hopefully the garages could help us fix our vehicle.

An hour and a half later, the tow truck driver arrived.  He had been very busy.  But that was alright.  It was still daylight, barely, and it was around 4:30.  Hopefully a garage would still be open.

He towed us to Capac Auto Repair, just a few miles up the street.  Past beautiful old houses, a picturesque main road.  A very small town.  Population just a few thousand.

We arrived at the mechanic's shop just before 5 o'clock.  Thankfully, and by nothing short of a miracle, this particular garage was open this Tuesday night until 7 o'clock.  

It was run by a husband and wife team, Lou and Dawn Robertson, who had bought the business many years ago from Lou's boss who was retiring.

There were a couple of small dogs in the back office, a good sign for me as that meant they were clearly kindred animal lovers.

After the tow truck dropped off our vehicle, Lou drove it into his shop and had a look under the hood.

Well, it appears our water pump had given up the ghost.

Can't get anywhere without a water pump, turns out.

And it was transmission fluid that was leaking out over the hot hoses in the engine, and that was what was causing the "smoke".  It was just steam. 

Lou called up a nearby parts supplier, who just happened to have the right sized water pump in stock.

What are the chances?

While it was being delivered, Lou removed the old water pump and got the ol' girl ready for her new part.

The pump arrived shortly after 6 o'clock.

Lou immediately got to work installing it, and re-hooking up all the hoses to ensure the new water pump would do its job.

We were out of there by the squeak of 7 o'clock, closing time.

And it was a good thing too - because the tiny town of Capac did not have a hotel, motel, AirBNB, Holiday Inn Express, bed and breakfast, or any accommodation of any sort.

The closest one, according to another customer who had walked in the door, was eight miles down the highway in Emily, Michigan.

We would have been stranded, in our car, in the tiny town of Capac, on a very cold and windy November night.

But Lou and his wife had us on our way by closing time.

We shook his hand, so thankful, happy and relieved that he had been there, been open, been willing and able to help us, that a water pump had been in stock, that he had been ready to install it, and have us on our way.

It was amazing how it all worked out.  It still amazes us.

The kindness of strangers.

And we couldn't have done anything without them.

I sent them a thank you note when we arrived home, letting them know how grateful we were for their kindness and capableness.

And so, Blanche Dubois, while you may have always depended upon the kindness of strangers, so to, did we (along with the CAA/AAA), in Capac, Michigan, that cold and windy November night.


Popular posts from this blog

The Best Kept Secret

  When I was first hired by CKVR-TV as an anchor and reporter back in 1993, I was living in a small apartment in Richmond Hill. I was happy to commute back and forth in my little Honda Civic, up and down Highway 400. There was no way I was moving up to Barrie. That was farm country. Where the rubes lived. It even had a Co-op store, where country bumpkins bought their farm feed and supplies. The only culture that city had was agriculture. Imagine! I was better than that! I had been born and raised in the thriving metropolis of Oakville, then we moved to Brampton when I was a teenager.   I even lived in Montreal for several years while in my roaring twenties, for goodness sake!  La creme de la creme of culture and sophistication! Well, after three long years of driving up and down that Highway 400, surviving snow storms and other harrowing highway experiences, I succumbed. In 1996, I moved up. Literally and figuratively. And I have, sinc...

Hostage Taking

 Dear Mrs. Raccoon; I would like my garden back please. I know you are raising your five adorable babies in the window well under our deck. I know you need a safe space to do so, and thought that would be suitable. Well, you have worn out your welcome. I am sure they are big enough to move along to a suitable forest. I know one just down the street. I realize they are still nursing on you. I can see you all through our basement window. A clear view of your nursery. And yes, your babies are cute beyond reason. Snuggly and cuddly and who wouldn't want to just pick them up and kiss them to death. It is you, Mrs. Raccoon, who has put the fear of god into me. I am afraid of you, to be quite frank. Ever since that afternoon last week when I was enjoying a snack out on the back deck. I saw you out the corner of my eye, as you came up onto the deck and wanted some of that snack! Thankfully I had a broom handy - just in case - and was able to wave you away. ...

Two Cents

 Another letter came in the mail the other day. Another notification from the TD Bank regarding my father's estate. He had passed away more than two years ago, and yet these letters still arrive in the mail. After having closed everything out, completed all the required tasks of his estate, carrying out all the executrix duties that I was appointed with, this one last account keeps on keeping on. Every few months I am notified by this letter that there are $.02 cents left remaining in this RRIF account. An account that I know that I closed down and dispersed. An account that should have long ago been shuttered and done away with. But no. There it is. A constant reminder that my dad has passed away, and that there are $.02 cents left remaining in this particular RRIF account. I have tried calling and emailing the bank, to no avail. This notice persists on being mailed and delivered. And so I have come to think of it as my dad's two cents. He is still gi...