On our way to pick my mother up from work last night, my dad hit the curb and blew the front right tire of his car. He was so frustrated trying to place the jack under the car and even more frustrated when the car lurched forward, bending the jack nearly in half.
A fellow in a light blue Hawaiin-style shirt with his wife drove past us and rolled down his window, "Do you need some help?"
After reading the car's manual and discovering the instruction "DO NOT USE THE JACK PROVIDED WITH THE VEHICLE" my dad was just happy to have some help. It turns out this couple lives 30-40 miles away and come into visit my mom at work every Saturday night after their church services. It's a small world and a one I'm proud to live in when citizens reach out to strangers like this.
In lieu of our tire tumult, my dad and I had an exceptional early fall day. We crossed the river and visited the ultimate in outdoor stores. We saw catfish (my favorite), shopped for warm weather wear, and just took our time taking in the sights. We had naked burriots for lunch and took the perfect pictures of our town succumbing to fall, leaves slightly turning brittle and changing to amber, orange, and red.
I am lucky to be alive.