Motor Mayhem ‘n Miracles

By Patti Iverson

What could be better than two college girls motoring down a Los Angeles freeway in a convertible with warm breezes blowing our hair, sun shining on our  faces, and the radio blaring out surfing music in 1967? “Let’s go surfin’ now, everybody’s learnin’ how, come on a safari with me!” Jan and Dean belted out the hit song just to us.

Cindy and I were carefree after classes got out at Mount San Antonio College.  We were on our way for cherry cokes and a big fat hamburger. Then it happened.

Something flew out the driver’s window of the white pick up truck in front of my shiny red Fiat 850 Spyder ragtop.

A loud POP!  A slick whizzzzz…   I slammed on the brakes. Inexperienced 17-year old drivers aren’t trained in “glass bottle avoidance”. We spun around like a happy bee drunk on fermented juice trying to find his hive.  At about 70 mph it rivaled a carnival ride, sans the laughing or fun.  We were two terrified girls but too involved in fear to realize exactly what was happening.  After about five swooshing spins on the two driver’s side wheels, we came to a halt facing the wrong way on the freeway.  All cars had stopped.  Our breath had stopped.  THEN Cindy started screaming.  Loudly. I tried to calm her down but she only got louder.  Wop!  I smacked her across her face.  Hey, I saw it on television.  It worked…

Two men ambled up. They were not running.  They were not walking.  Just ambling! It did seem rather odd.  But then, this whole situation was odd, to say the least.

 “Get out of the car, ladies, and we’ll fix the flat tire for you.” We just sat there paralyzed.  Either they thought we were dead or deaf.  They hoisted us out of the tiny front seats and plopped us down on the gravel.  We came to what senses we had left and started chattering about nonsensical matters.  Soon the car was ready to go.  But our men were gone.  Where were our guardian angels that rescued us?  Did they run away while we were frantically yakking? Did we imagine them?  We searched up ‘n down the road both ways, but could not see as the traffic started zooming by.

How could we thank them?  Who were they, let alone WHERE were they?  Sometimes all you can do is praise and thank God from the bottom of your hearts for creating such a special miracle when it could’ve, should’ve been a tragedy.  I pray He blesses those Highway Angels as they rescue other damsels in distress.

Shaken up, with both hands on the wheel and the speedometer down as we tooled along in the slow lane breathing deeply, we softly started to sing along with the radio.  “…Come on a safari with me…” Hey!  How could the same song be on the radio? 

Oh well.  This just wasn’t a day to try to figure out His mysterious ways.

Patti Iverson writes from Medford, Oregon.