From the archives: Pastor Rick, Mechanic
Maybe it was rescuing the Mercedes driver last week; something was triggered.
We got a call about 9:30 p.m. that a family was stranded -- they weren't homeless, but they weren't going to get home in the heap they were driving.
I dispatch Mark Abbott & Matt Whitehead to get the mom, three kids and an 18 year old nephew into a hotel room for the night (way to go, guys), and told the family I'd meet them at their car then next morning. Say, 10:00 a.m.
The 18 year old nephew told me it was the alternator. He didn't really know, but that's what some service station grease monkey told him.
I asked for prayer, grabbed the kid and drove to the nearest wrecking yard. The bored guys behind the counter couldn't care less. Yeah, we got one of those, and the lazy hand wave indicating the general direction.
We found an identical heap, managed to grab the alternator with a minimum of pain, paid the dude at the counter (all of $20 I think). Within an hour everything was done, installed, jump started with my little Toyota tin can -- and they were able to drive home to the coast. Not a bad day.
Lorri says, "Sure sign that there is a God."