I glided my truck into a snowbank to avoid sliding straight into the M113 Tuesday morning on my way into town. It was cold and the roads were icy. I am that person you pass on the road going under the limit, so it wasn't my speed - the roads were just so slick. FOUR good Samaritans, all men, stopped to help dig me out within minutes of my encounter with the snowbank:
- A man in a minivan with a woman in the passenger seat who had a shaved head
- A man wearing sweatpants who was on his way to see a house he was buying
- a younger man in a huge truck with a dog in the passenger seat
- and a Vietnam veteran (said so on his hat), skinny, who looked like a character actor in a baseball hat, scraggly beard and sunglasses. He was the best - he ultimately got the truck out and had a cigarette dangling from his lip the whole time
They spent about 20 minutes of their time digging out my truck with shovels they produced from their trunks, arguing over whether should be in low 4WD or high, pushing the vehicle, opening all the doors and standing inside the car trying to rock it out, and all of them taking turns at the wheel, gunning the engine, spinning the tires and making even deeper ruts in the snow in attempts to "rock her out"
In the end, they did get me out. For living in a rural and somewhat isolated place, I have never had better neighbors in my whole life, anywhere I've ever lived. I hugged all of them and was astounded and grateful at the charity of total strangers to stop, in freezing weather in the middle of nowhere, to help me.
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