Highway Miscue . . . The Rest of the Story

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Here is the “Rest of the Story” with a few added spins and twists in this tale.  In case you missed the beginning, here is a link to Highway Miscue.

As the story ended, we were reading . . .

My road-weary eyes spotted a tow truck along the interstate highway, and then I could see another vehicle buried in the median’s deep snow.  Beginning to brake and slow down my speed, my curiosity was taking over.

The tow truck driver was digging around the car in an effort to create a clear path to pull it out to safety.  You ask, where was the driver of the buried car?

Standing off to the side and watching (more like supervising) was a highway patrol trooper.  His marooned patrol car was buried in the deep snow, unable to move out and needing a tow.  The look on the trooper’s face was one never to forget . . . not too happy and certainly feeling embarrassed!

As I drove the final couple of miles to Missoula, my mind was filled with all of the stories and teasing the trooper would likely have to endure about his thrilling drive along Interstate 90.

But wait . . .

As American radio commentator Paul Harvey used to say, here is the rest of the story!

Let’s back up the story just a bit.  Here is a significant, missing piece left out before I witnessed the highway patrol trooper stuck in the snow.

Upon reaching Interstate 90, less than an hour of driving time remained before reaching my final destination of Missoula.  The highway from Lincoln had been remarkably clear of snow so I was driving at about the speed limit.  I was feeling confident about the rest of the trip, and looking forward to reaching my destination safely.

A word of warning should have been lighting up inside of my brain.  Overconfidence when driving in the wintertime is never a sound approach to traveling on snow-covered or icy roads.  A surprise can lurk ahead on the road, hidden from view just over the next hill or around the approaching curve.  A driver must stay alert!

Driving up a hill, the highway surface began to gather more snow.  Obviously, the snowplow was missing in action on this stretch of road.

Traffic slowed and became a bit more crowded as I prepared to pass a slow-moving tractor-trailer truck, which was hauling a heavy load.  Even with my reduced speed, I felt comfortable in passing the lumbering truck despite the snow-covered road surface.

Oh, I didn’t mention the type of car I was driving . . . an older model Ford Crown Victoria with rear-wheel drive.  I usually drove a front-wheel car, but not this time around.  Front-wheel drive vehicles handle much better on winter road conditions than rear-wheel ones.

As I began to pass the truck, I carefully steered the car into the left lane.  My speed was comfortably under the speed limit.  Suddenly, the rear of the car began to move to the left.  I was losing control of the car at a critical moment.  The car continued to spin around until it ended up in the median filled with fresh snow.

Guess who was stuck in the snow now?

I have reflected back on this scenario more than a few times over the years.  God was certainly with me for this much too thrilling ride.  Perhaps one of His angels intervened to keep me safe from harm.

First, the large truck narrowly missed my car as I spun out of control.  Fortunately, the truck stayed in its lane, and my car managed to keep moving to the left towards the snow-filled median.

Secondly, my car completed its 360-degree spin and ended up in the median without a scratch and pointed in the proper direction.

Last of all, a Good Samaritan pulled over near the median.  He jumped out of his pick-up truck, hooked up a tow rope to my car, and pulled me out of the snow.

Each aspect of this near-miss accident could have turned into a tragedy with far different conclusions.  I sit here today, and I always feel so grateful for God’s help.

As this very true story concludes, I sincerely hope none of you, the readers, will ever experience something like this in your highway travels.  I am an experienced winter driver, but it only takes one time to give you a wake-up call.

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I am reminded of Scripture from Psalm 91:1-4:

“You who live in the shelter of the Most High, who abide in the shadow of the Almighty, will say to the Lord, ‘My refuge and my fortress; my God, in whom I trust.’  For He will deliver you from the snare of the fowler and from deadly pestilence; He will cover you with His pinions, and under His wings you fill find refuge; His faithfulness is a shield and buckler.”

Highway Miscue

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Enjoy a true story!

I was driving along some of Montana’s highways years ago, westbound for Missoula.  The winter trip had been a challenging one with snow-covered roads along the way, especially as I traversed the mountains between Great Falls and Seeley Lake.

Highway 200 became my route after leaving Great Falls.  Rogers Pass loomed ahead, and the road was covered with two or three inches of snow.  I was wondering where the snowplow might be as I continued on my way.

Following the tire tracks in front of me helped keep my car going straight and safe in its direction.  My driving speed was further slowed by a large tractor-trailer truck looming up ahead.  I was thinking to myself, “Let’s just keep all of us moving along slow and safe.”

Passing an historical marker set back off of the road didn’t help my thoughts to warm-up much.  The sign informed any and all about the Arctic temperature recorded in 1954 in the pass when the thermometer crash dived to -70F.  The record temperature remains the lowest ever recorded in the United States, outside of Alaska.

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After reaching Lincoln, the road conditions improved dramatically.  The snowplow had been busy in making the road surface much safer here.  Soon I would reach Interstate 90 and be heading into the Missoula area.

As I journeyed along the freeway, road conditions were becoming worse by the minute.  More snow-covered patches caused me to slow down and use more caution.

Finally, I was just a few miles away from my final destination.  The roadway was free of snow and just wet in places.  In the distance, I could see a set of flashing lights along the left shoulder of the road.

My road-weary eyes spotted a tow truck along the interstate highway, and then I could see another vehicle buried in the median’s deep snow.  Beginning to brake and slow down my speed, my curiosity was taking over.

The tow truck driver was digging around the car in an effort to create a clear path to pull it out to safety.  You ask, where was the driver of the buried car?

Standing off to the side and watching (more like supervising) was a highway patrol trooper.  His marooned patrol car was buried in the deep snow, unable to move out and needing a tow.  The look on the trooper’s face was one never to forget . . . not too happy and certainly feeling embarrassed!

As I drove the final couple of miles to Missoula, my mind was filled with all of the stories and teasing the trooper would likely have to endure about his thrilling drive along Interstate 90.

But wait . . .

As American radio commentator Paul Harvey used to say, here is the rest of the story!

Stay tuned for the finale to this true story!!

Highway Rescue

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Blanche drives home after work one late afternoon.  The freeway is slow with traffic due to a heavy rainstorm.

As she approaches her exit, traffic has spread out a bit.  However, the rain has picked up in intensity.  The car’s wipers are working overtime now so she can see the highway a bit more clearly.

As she glances across the median, she notices a man pulled off on to the right shoulder.  He deposits a small kitten along the road and quickly drives away.

Blanche can’t believe it.  She pulls over to the right shoulder on her side of the freeway, and turns on the car’s emergency flashers.

Upon leaving her car, she pulls her large purse up over her head, checks for traffic, and hurries across the median to the marooned kitten.  The rain is drenching her clothing, and she can barely see her way.

Upon reaching the terrified little feline, she picks her up and stuffs the soaking wet kitten into her large purse.  She carefully and quickly makes it back across the freeway to her waiting car.

Once inside, she pulls the frightened kitten out of her bag, pats her on the head, and allows her to snuggle on her lap.  She is just a few minutes away from home.

When a rain-soaked Blanche walks into the kitchen with the dry kitten cuddled in her arms, her husband looks up from the stove (he is making dinner).  In a calm voice, he comments, “Well . . . at least one of you is dry.”

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This story is inspired by my sister-in-law’s actual rescue of a cat along a highway where she lives.  The cat now has a new home with her mother.  The picture above is actually one of my daughter’s cats.  She and her husband provide a home for three cats (two females and one male) rescued from shelters.

Start Bailin’

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Milt and I push his small rowboat into the lake’s calm waters on a sunny, early morning.  Fishin’ is absolutely on our minds.

Milt’s boat has stood the test of time, and she definitely looks it.  There are patches here and there, scrapped and worn paint, and even some mismatched planking on the floor.

Rowing the boat far from shore, we arrive at the very best place to fish the lake.  The deep water covers the territory with the biggest fish around.

We both become quite involved with our fishin’ as we cast again and again, hoping to catch the big one.  We fail to notice the threatening skies above.  A mother-of-all thunderstorms appears heading for the lake, and we sit directly in the crosshairs of its vicious aim.

Before we can even think about rowing back to the safety of the shore, Milt and I feel the tiny craft being engulfed by the torrents of rain and the white caps of the charging waves.

Our clothes and fishin’ tackle become soaking wet in a few short minutes, and then the boat begins to list to the starboard side.  She’s taking on water much too quickly.

Looking more anxious by the second, Milt shouts out, “Start bailin’ now!”

Watching my tackle box floating away, I yell back, “With what?”

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Flying Trash Can, Final Chapter

If you have arrived for the first time, you may want to check out the previous chapters of the story.

What lies ahead at Aaron Burr High School?  Will Pete crumble and fold up his teaching career on the very first day?  

Each of the four classrooms is separated by office-like partitions.  The walls, looking more temporary than permanent, rise about seven feet.  There is ample space between each wall and the ceiling.  Pete doesn’t appreciate the room layout much, but there is little that he can do about it.  He will have to make the best of it for now.

closeup photo of black and blue keyboard

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The school’s mascot is the Ravens.  For Pete’s sake, it is very unfortunate that this blackbird cannot serve as  a lookout for him.  His adventures have only just begun!

Pete again surveys the room, and he feels a bit more comfortable.  Clyde still seems to be enjoying a pre-winter nap.  Traci is applying another color of polish to her perfectly manicured nails, and she wants to be finished before lunch.  The rest of the class is working quietly—at least it seems—on an assignment.

The classroom is only half full on this inaugural day of school at Aaron Burr.  It seems that many students are still on summer vacation—probably until after Labor Day.

Hmm . . . where is Reggie?

Reggie, who is as nutty as a fruit cake, has disappeared from Pete’s sight.  Pete checks out each corner of the half-empty room, but Reggie is nowhere to be seen.

Pete now begins to feel a band of cold sweat dripping down his back, but he truly has no idea what is in store for him.  Past memories take him back to the day that he was stuck in a gigantic snow drift while driving along an abandoned highway last winter.  As he was sweating it out under his heavy, winter parka, he figured that he would never be found.  Fortunately, a helpful truck driver (Pete’s guardian angel) came along and pulled his car back onto the road.

A few minutes pass.

Pete wishes that the clock would move more swiftly so that the bell will ring to end class.  He has a planning period next, and he is seriously thinking of going home.

This teaching stuff just doesn’t sit well with him.  He wonders for a minute or two why he ever changed his major from Accounting to Business Education.  Another of life’s decisions is about ready to provide Pete with another notable experience to write about in his already overflowing journal.

The clock is slowly approaching the time to wrap up the first class of his teaching career.  Pete begins thinking that perhaps the remainder of his day will turn out better.  He is feeling a bit more relaxed and confident.  Didn’t the Titanic’s captain feel confident as the huge iceberg loomed ahead?

The room grows unusually quiet.

Then . . . Suddenly!

Bam!!

A large, heavy, cast-iron trash can hurdles the wall and lands at Pete’s feet.  The airborne projectile narrowly misses Pete’s head by a couple of inches.  The flying trash can strikes terror in Pete’s inner soul, and he feels his heartbeat racing while a torrent of sweat runs free over his entire body.  He pivots around and suddenly realizes that this day really is not going to be an outstanding experience.

Pete, standing all alone in the middle of the room, is visibly shaken and greatly disturbed.  His face has turned a ghastly white color, and his blonde hair is all amiss.  He turns to face the class, and the students are all snickering.  Many are falling out of their seats and roaring with more and more laughter.  Even Clyde wakes up and joins in with the impromptu celebration.  Traci excitedly claps her hands and smudges her still-wet nail polish.

Twisting around, Pete runs quickly out of the room, down a vacant hallway, and out the front door of the school.

Reggie slyly creeps back around the wall to rejoin the class.  His thumbs-up gesture arouses even more of a deafening thunder of applause and shouts for his exploits.  Somehow, the epic sounds have not reached the central office . . . yet!

Clyde joins Reggie at the front of the room, and they both announce their marching orders for the rest of the day—“TAKE OVER THE SCHOOL!”

Without a teacher in the room, the unruly mob leaves the computer lab and launches into a riotous journey down the hallway into the rest of Aaron Burr’s no longer quiet hallways.  Another opening day has turned into a disaster of nearly Biblical proportions.  What happens next will be anyone’s guess; just be on the lookout for Reggie, the new kingpin of the school!

An hour later, the police arrive to take charge of the disorderly student body, which resembles an unruly and disorganized mob.  Meanwhile, the administration has been hiding in their offices, and the teaching staff finds refuge down in the school’s boiler room in the basement.

The bell rings to dismiss school for the day, but Pete is missing permanently.  Thoroughly shaken, he never returns to Aaron Burr.

As the curtain closes on Aaron Burr High School (this will be its final, unforgettable school year), the wrecking ball will finally arrive to turn the property into a parking lot and city park.  Many citizens around the community curiously wonder whatever happened to Pete, the novice teacher who dashed away.

Rumor has it that he is now the Principal at Alexander Hamilton High School in a distant city.  According to an inside source, all classrooms have permanent walls and include lightweight, plastic trash cans.

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Aaron Burr High School bites the dust!

Flying Trash Can, Chapter 3

If you missed either of the first two chapters, here are links to Chapters 1 and 2.

The story continues from Aaron Burr High School.  When we last checked in, the first day of school was off and running (the staff isn’t quite sure where to).

Aaron Burr’s student body is dominated by the sub-culture from the streets outside of the school building.  Sadly, the administration can do very little to control the unruly students or maintain any type of discipline.  Pete and the newly arrived staff do not see what’s coming their way—a film, with a disaster theme, would be a more appropriate setting!

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Pete’s first-period class is filled with freshmen and sophomores, with a couple of juniors thrown in because they need another failing grade.  Pete assumes (without much forethought) that his beginning class will prepare the rest of his day for even more success.  Pete looks down and suddenly realizes that his socks do not match—one black and one blue.  He feels a bead of sweat forming around the collar of his shirt.  Perhaps he should loosen up the colorful tie that hangs (too tightly) around his neck.

Reggie is one the juniors, and Pete immediately realizes that this “man-child” will be a handful to cope with.  Reggie stands nearly as tall as Shaquille O’Neill with the maturity of a middle schooler.  He aspires to play in the NBA, but no scouts will ever find his talent (or lack of it) as his GPA is a lowly 0.2.  His only passing grade was during his freshman year in Physical Education. Somehow he squeezed by with a “D-” on his final exam.

Traci and Clyde are sitting next to each other, and school is definitely not on their minds.  Clyde falls asleep at his computer—it seems that he is not quite ready for his summer vacation to end.  His preferred field of study is researching the short story written by American author, Washington Irving, Rip Van Winkle.

Traci pulls a bottle of fingernail polish out from her purse.  She decides that her nails need a touch-up.  Afterall, she wants to look her best on the first day of school.  Traci seems more interested in making a good impression with some of the boys in the classroom.

The rest of Pete’s class appears to be settling down, and most seem fairly well-prepared for their return to the boisterous halls of Aaron Burr.  Pete tries to be as calm as possible, but this first day in the trenches begins to cause him to sweat even more!

Ah!  Before one forgets, Pete’s classroom . . . aka the computer lab (prison to Reggie and many others) . . . doesn’t look like a traditional classroom.  The computer lab is part of an enormous, open classroom area with four large computer labs filling the space.  There are no windows, permanent walls, or classroom doors.

The school designers wanted to set up an office-like atmosphere so that students could better assimilate into the world of work.  One wonders how many of Aaron Burr’s finest and not so fine will actually make it in the real world, much less graduate on time.

Each of the four classrooms is separated by office-like partitions.  The walls, looking more temporary than permanent, rise about seven feet.  There is ample space between each wall and the ceiling.  Pete doesn’t appreciate the room layout much, but there is little that he can do about it.  He will have to make the best of it for now.

Flying Trash Can, Chapter 2

The story continues at Aaron Burr High School with the first day of school.  In case you missed the first chapter, here is a link to it.

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The school district, in its infinite wisdom, has provided a half-day of training on how to be “successful teachers” during the soon-to-start school year.  In reality, this much-anticipated professional development session ends up being pretty much a total waste of time.  Pete remembers a few of his boring and totally inept professors from his university days.

Perhaps Pete and the staff would be better served to use “Welcome Back, Kotter” as an orientation for what is in store for all of them.  They could watch past episodes of this iconic television series.  Learning from the shenanigans and antics of Vinnie Barbarino, Arnold Horshack, and the rest of the Gabe Kotter’s dysfunctional classroom headaches, they would be better served than recalling educational psychology in an aging textbook from their college days.

Last year’s senior class graduated less than half of its students.  Therefore, the entire school has been placed on third-degree probation by the State Education Department.  A “perfect storm” sets up the school year to be an impending disaster for Pete and his very “green” and unproven colleagues.

The opening day of school arrives without much fanfare.  Pete feels both nervous and excited—dearly wanting to jumpstart his teaching career on a positive note.  Hmm, does anyone hear a bulldozer’s engine running behind the school (ready to begin demolishing the ancient building)?  Well, maybe not quite yet!

Aaron Burr’s student body is dominated by the sub-culture from the streets outside of the school building.  Sadly, the administration can do very little to control the unruly students or maintain any type of discipline.  Pete and the newly arrived staff do not see what’s coming their way—a film, with a disaster theme, would be a more appropriate setting!

Flying Trash Can, Chapter 1

This short story was originally published in its entirety in November, 2018.  The story will be reposted in smaller segments over the next several days.  Enjoy a bit of humor and sarcasm in this fictional account, which does have a bit of truth lingering behind the words.

closeup photo of black and blue keyboard

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Pete arrives at Aaron Burr High School eager to kick off his teaching career.  He is a first-year teacher who is feeling more than a tad edgy as he begins teaching high school students.

His preparedness from the university is masked by his nervousness and anxiety.  Sometimes, he feels more like when he was standing in the batter’s box as a 12-year old, and he struck out with the bases loaded to end the game in defeat!  He asks himself over and over again, “Will I really make it as a teacher?”

Why the community named its high school after Aaron Burr is a bit of a mystery.  Afterall, about the only milestone ever noted about him in history is that he prevailed in a duel with Alexander Hamilton many, many years ago.

Nonetheless, Pete sets up his classroom with both apprehension and enthusiasm as he spends two days preparing it for the first day of school, which is arriving soon.  His classroom is a computer lab where he will teach students in the applications of Microsoft Office in their personal and working lives (now that is mouthful of expectations).

He sometimes wonders why he could not have been the entrepreneur behind Microsoft’s enormous success instead of Bill Gates.  Pete remains a big dreamer who hopes one day to make it to the top!

He is unaware of the challenges that are secretly waiting for him, just as a snake waits to spring upon its prey.  Being a “rookie” teacher and a bit naïve, Pete is walking into a miserable swamp instead of an honored school.  Nearly all of the teaching staff is new to Aaron Burr.  As the opening bell awaits, they may remember the maiden and ill-fated voyage of the ocean liner Titanic.

Thank you for reading.  Over the next several days, be looking for more details about the first day of school at Aaron Burr High School.

Afternoon Rendezvous

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The pace of work at Bill’s office has recently been too much to bear.  Laboring for countless hours to land a substantial account for his marketing business, he has been working diligently, nearly nonstop, with little time off.

Viewing a beautiful day outside of his office window, Bill checks his calendar.  All looks free for an afternoon rendezvous with one of his favorite places . . . a splendid, quiet 18 holes on the golf course.

As he quietly slips away from the office, Bill instructs his secretary to hold down the fort . . . “Please keep the boss off of my back for three hours.”

About two hours later, Bill’s boss shows up.  He needs to catch up with Bill about this new account.  Let’s eavesdrop on the conversation between the boss and Bill’s ever-protective secretary.

The boss asks the secretary, “Where’s Bill at?  I need to check on his progress with our newest account.”

She dutifully replies, “He’s working on his game.”

“What game?”

“He’s working hard to land this new account that’s better than par.”

“Well, I hope he keeps his eyes focused on the prize, just like an eagle.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s looking for lots of birdies, perhaps an eagle or two.”

As the boss leaves the office, he turns around and smiles, “Bill really is my ‘ace in the hole’ around here.”

Meanwhile at this same moment on the golf course, Bill tees off on the short, par-3, 13th hole.  His ball carries straight and true, lands softly on the green, and meanders right into the hole.

A hole-in-one . . . an ACE!

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Incredible!

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Autumn fills with sounds of cheering fans and the excitement of Friday night high school football games.  We pick up the action with play-by-play announcer “Cato the Cat” Johnson as he calls the final seconds of the game between the undefeated Valley High Bulldogs and the lowly Vernon High Bengals.

Welcome back football fans as the undefeated Valley High Bulldogs are poised to garner their 10th division championship in a row.  The winless Bengals of Vernon High have put up an incredible fight against overwhelming odds tonight, but their time in the limelight is about to be extinguished by the mighty Bulldogs.

The Bulldogs are poised to add to their lead with the score at 7-2.  The stingy Bengals have only yielded one score, and its defense has scored their only points with a safety back in the first quarter.

From the Bengals five-yard line, the Bulldogs are facing a second down and goal.  They line up in their favorite power run formation.  The ball is snapped.  But wait . . . fumble!

The Bengals have recovered!  Oh my, what a turn of events.  However, the Bulldogs still hold the lead, and the game clock only shows enough time for one more play.

The Bengals face nearly the entire length of the football field—95 yards to be exact.  With only one more play, it appears their woeful season will end on another sour note.  At least the marching band has performed quite well this season.

The Bengals line up in a spread formation.  The Bulldogs’ defense sets up in a prevent mode.  They only need to stop the Bengals here, and their string of championship crowns will continue.

The ball is snapped.  Instead of passing, the Bengals hand the ball off to their speedy halfback Kurt Warner.  With a power sweep to the right, the Bengals are pushing the ball up the sideline.  There is a phalanx of blockers in front of Warner.

Only two players stand between the Bengals and a touchdown.  One blocker takes out a defender, and Warner fakes left and hustles right, leaving the last tackler humbled on the ground.

Nelson is on his way . . . to the 30, the 20, the 10 . . . touchdown!!

The Bengals score, and the game is over.  Vernon High 8, Valley High 7.

Oh my football fans!  We have seen an incredible finish for the ages.

Life isn’t always as basic as a seemingly simple high school football game.  Just as Vernon High comes into the game as a hapless underdog, Jesus Christ is perceived to be a loser and an underdog when he is taken to Calvary and a cruel Cross.  Football fans underestimate the resolve of the Bengals, just as people underestimate Christ’s purpose.

The Vernon High team experiences an unbelievable moment, but it pales in comparison to the stunning moment when Jesus’ followers find the empty tomb. 

Incredible!

 

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