Church was just letting out as I stood in the street and looked at my mother’s tire; it was flat. It was 90 degrees as the sun beamed down.
A small cigarette lighter powered air pump labored away trying to raise the flattened tire. I told my mother to take my Jeep and go home, and I would take care of the tire. I listened as air hissed out as fast as the pump put it in. I found the hole and backed the car up so the hole was on the bottom. The weight of the car stopped the leak and allowed the tire to fill. With the tire full but leaking, I pulled off.
I didn’t know of any gas stations with mechanics in the neighborhood, but I figured I could drive until I found one. I stayed off the expressway in case the tire went flat.
After ten minutes of driving, I found nothing open on a Sunday afternoon. I pulled into a gas station to pump up the nearly flat tire again. As the pump was pumping, there was one man pumping gas. “Do you know where I can get a tire plugged around here?” I asked. “There’s a place right there,” he said pointing. “Right where?” I asked, wondering where the place could be since he was pointing to the street and direction that I had just driven from.
“It’s next to the liquor store, it’s on the right but you have to look hard to see it.”
“Are they open now on Sunday?” I asked. “Yes, they’re open,” he replied.
I thanked him and set out to find the repair shop. I was somewhat sceptical that I could have passed a tire repair shop while desperately looking for a tire repair shop. I passed the liquor store and there on the right, down a gravel road was a tire repair shop. Men covered in black grease were hard at work. They were a welcome sight as the air continually hissed from the tire.
In ten minutes, I was on my way.
It was a MountainWings Moment. Why? It reminded me so much of life…Read More »