I believe that God’s plan for all of us, allows us to play at many different roles for many different people through-out our lives. Literally we are sometimes the hero, sometimes the victim. Sometimes the wealthy or powerfully positioned, other times the homeless beggar. The key is that at all times to be walking with God. ~ CrackerJack

Mesothelioma Cancer

December 17th, 2008

Was a day in my life that won’t soon be forgotten. Snow was falling from 08:00am in the morning until after midnight that night. That wouldn’t have been too big of a deal in a place like Utah, but I live and work in California. In an area where at best it snows for half a day or so and then it disappears by the end of the next day. Snow might only fall one or two days a year. A place filled with beautiful Joshua Trees.

So, as I was saying the snow was pouring down in massive pristine flakes hour after hour. My office soon chose to send everyone home. It was 2:30pm when I gathered up my belongings and decided to make my way to my brother’s home. My regular commute of 56 miles to get home was out of the question as the mountainous pass had been closed since that morning. I barely made it up to arrive at work.

I carefully made my way to the car. My 2001 Ford Mustang Convertible, truly a California dream car. There is sat with over a foot of snow on it and a good several inches on the ground. I crept out of the icy parking lot and onto the snow laden roadways and began to inch my way to the main street in-front of my work place. My brother’s home a good 20 minute drive under nice conditions felt like it was infinitely far away. The snow continued to pour down and some of the roads were plowed. I successfully picked my way along the roads until I was nearly 8 miles from my warm destination.

I chose a road less traveled, at least one that I was not so familiar with, and that is where things got dicey. My Mustang is not a heavy car and the rear tires were nearly bald to boot. It didn’t take long to spin out of control and go careening off to the side of the road.
For the next several hours I was literally helped about a dozen times by perfect strangers. I spun out at least 4 times and was towed up small hills in the road time and again. Some stopped to help push me, others had shovels and dug at the road way. Bit by bit I inched my way to within 5 and ½ miles of my brother’s home. I spent about 5 hours and a quarter tank of gas literally spinning my wheels. Finally I spun out, a good 360 at the top of yet another small hill and became lodged in another road side snow bank.

Every time I became stuck, or stranded. Mere seconds would pass and someone would come up to help me out of the jam. You may call it what you wish, but I clearly recognize it as I described at the beginning of this article. I was cast in the part of the victim for this day in my life. And I faithfully prayed and received help constantly. At no time did I fear for my life, or worry that I would not be kept warm and safe. And I proudly tell you that I was helped by all manner of people. Teenagers walking with their snowboards; fathers and sons, patrolling the streets looking to be of aide; other folks on their way home from work, even the local sheriff helped me out once.
This last time, a gentleman came from the warmth of his home to help push me out of the drift. After several minutes we managed to get my car dislodged and then the next dilemma had to be decided as I would have to figure out how to turn around when my wheels just kept spinning even on top of the hill. He suggested I try to go back down the hill I just spent the past 2hrs climbing and try to park it on the smaller side street. Then if need be I could stay with him for the evening or even the night. This man’s offer of hospitality was amazing to me. Especially being that his primary spoken language was Spanish not English.

I had to face facts, even when the snow plows passed by me, I was unable to get traction. I decided to ditch the car on the side street and try to call for assistance. Worst case scenario, I would be stuck in the car or foolishly try to walk five miles in the now knee deep snow, but clearly I had an open offer for a warm place to come in out of the cold.
I successfully stranded my car on a side street named Fresno. Then I whipped out my VX8300 and began a new series of contacts to friends and family hoping to gain a safe way to a familiar place. Turns out that every way was blocked even the local tow truck companies were not answering their phones. I even tried the sheriff’s dispatch, but unless I had been involved in an accident, “there was nothing that they could do”.

The sun had set and the snow was still softly falling. I stepped from the safety of my car and marveled at the brightness of the snow covered landscape. The air was crisp to say the least and clouds were solid overhead. Not a streetlight existed in this semi-rural area and yet all was clearly visible and bright. The sight seemed surrealistic. I trudged through the knee deep snow, in my new shiny black dress shoes and business attire. I contemplated trying to walk the five miles one last time and realized that my legs and feet were already very uncomfortably cold from just the last 40 feet. So, I tugged at the chain link fence and finally it gave way enough for me to make my assent to the front porch.

The hospitality at this nice Hispanic home was truly gracious. Although I only speak and understand minimal Spanish, and they spoke limited English we were able to communicate fairly well. When I entered the home, the power was out, and the family of 6 sat around a candle lit dining table. I relieved myself of worry and put my best foot forward. I was invited to a steaming bowl of chicken soup, made fresh. It tasted very good on this cold night. I was not starving by any means, but the meal was a huge comfort to me. After about an hour the power came on and we sat in the living room area and watched a slightly fuzzy, over sized television. As time passed my brother had coordinated with his pastor to have a member of their church come out and pick me up and bring me to my brother’s home.

Around 8:10 pm a ride finally did arrive. It was an older pick-up truck and it appeared to be barely held together. But it had chains on the tires and that made all the difference in the world that evening. At 8:30 or so I arrived at my brother’s home. Where I was warmly welcomed.

This is as much as I can write at this time regarding these events. I do have many other details to share about this day, but it seems as though I have run out of time to tell the tale. I will update as life allows. Thank you for reading and God bless you.