Dad To The Rescue

originally posted at: 2BucksWorth.com

It is an intrinsic part of parenting to be on standby for rescue operations for your children; more so I think for dad's, since a man's natural inclination is to fix something. From righting upturned strollers to the time one of my kids fell out of a second story window (there's another story you gotta hear), I have upheld the proud Buck tradition of fathers rescuing their children from various snags and tight spots.

My oldest son got stranded in strange part of town last night with a broken down car. Between his description of the problem and my cursory knowledge of car anatomy, we diagnosed the problem and after I arrived on the scene we devised a plan to get him & his car back home safely, which we did. Some people would call it an inconvenience (which it was), but I call it an adventure.

Which reminded me of another "adventure", in which my dad rescued me from a much worse predicament almost 20 years ago. Oh yes, being stranded with a broken down car is familiar territory for me...

I lived in Jackson, MS for two years while I was in school there, and in day in December 1990 I left work and headed north to my parent's place 200 miles away for Christmas. The only problem with this plan was, between me and my folks was a raging ice/snow storm that had driven most sane people indoors for the weekend. But, being 21 and invincible, I struck north.

With most of my meager possessions in the back seat (including my 20 gallon tank of tropical fish), I soon ran into heavy snow. Despite the weather, I was making good time until, quite without preamble, my car engine died. On the Interstate, in the driving snow, four miles from the nearest exit. Needless to say, my prospects turned grim in a hurry.

I was in luck, however, as a father and son in a pickup truck picked me up (may God bless them forever) and dropped me off in the next town, the booming metropolis of Vaiden, MS. At a local truck stop, I found a payphone and did what every 21 year old should do in a situation like this, I called dad. He told me he was on his way and he set out through the maelstrom while I sat tight for three hours of stale coffee and disapproving glares from the waitress.

When he arrived, we set out to find the car. the way was not easy going, since it was still snowing (and dark by then), and his truck's radiator iced up (it was that freakin' cold). So we fixed that (the only liquid water we could find was in the bathroom sink at rest stop)and pushed on to the car. The problem was found to be a thrown engine belt, so we returned to Vaiden to buy a belt (try that on a snowy Saturday night) and then back to the car to repair it.

Once the car was running again (and the heat was thawing out my poor fish) we made for the north once more on what was now a 200 mile long sheet of ice. As we clawed our way home, car after car spun out of control and into the ditches, it was like a bad action movie. At one point, my dad spun out on an icy bridge, from my viewpoint it looked like a flashlight thrown across a frozen pond. Round and round he spun in a terrifying dance, to come to rest safely on the median just beyond the bridge. Whew!

I made it to my parents' house 11 hours, two good Samaritans and one dad later, tired but safe. Do I regret my decision not to stay in Jackson that day? Nope. I had a truly death defying adventure and to top it all off: a week later, on New Year's Eve, I met the woman who would someday become my lovely bride, the one and only Debbiebuck. Now if that's not worth driving 200 miles through the ice & snow, I ask you what is?

Nolanbuck