The Go Getter!
Hello everyone… I just had to share a story with you. It seems God decided to give me a little test of commitment this week.
I have been in Atlanta since Saturday attending a “Colloquium” (a residency period for my PhD studies). It has been a great experience, but not nearly as exciting as the trip here.
In order to save money (I guess we are all trying to be cost conscious in this economy), I decided to drive my own car down from Louisville to Atlanta. I must admit this was against the wishes of my wife, who didn’t think my little car was safe or reliable enough for the seven hour trip. She suggested renting a car. I looked at flying, but the cost was outrageous, unless you accepted multiple flights and layovers, resulting in a trip even longer than just driving.
I got up very early Saturday morning, hoping to arrive in Atlanta many hours before the Colloquium registration deadline of 5 PM. I filled up my gas tank and drove 4 straight hours without a single break, until…
… of course, my car died. About halfway between Nashville and Chattanooga I suddenly started to lose power. As much as I pressed the accelerator, the car began to slow down. Inside of about 60 seconds I went from cruising along at 70 mph down to 40 mph, and it wasn’t getting any better. I finally pulled off the side of the highway and stopped.
I climbed out (dodging traffic), popped the hood and immediately saw that coolant was bubbling out of my car. This struck me as rather odd, because I didn’t think the car was running hot, and I had never had trouble with overheating before. In fact, I had never had any trouble at all with this car. It has been a gem. After digging under the hood awhile and seeing nothing that looked obviously wrong to me, I let the engine cool for a few minutes, and then tried to restart it. The engine cranked and seemed to almost sputter to life, but would not start again. Crud.
At this point of course I realized I had a major problem and reaching Atlanta by 5 PM was highly unlikely. It was time to whip out the cell phone and AAA card and call for help.
While I waited for the tow truck, a very nice man pulled over and tried to help me (you gotta’ love the south). He obviously new engines very well. He spent a good 20 minutes on it before giving up. Around 12:30 PM, the tow truck showed up. I am now 3 hours from Atlanta with 4 and a half hours before registration for the Colloquium ends…
… but of course there is no way I am giving up that easy. The tow truck driver fiddled with my car for a few minutes. Meanwhile, I am working the phone trying to find a rental car place, any rental car place, that is open and will give me a car. As the driver loaded my car up on his truck I must have called every rental car joint within 50 miles. Unfortunately, in this area there wasn’t much, and every place I called either wasn’t open at all or had closed at noon. I even tried to bribe a couple of guys to stay open until I could get there, with no luck. Quickly losing hope, I then sat in the tow truck for a 20 minute drive in the wrong direction to the closest mechanic.
Once there I frantically explained my situation to the mechanics, who gratefully agreed to drop everything else and tear into my car. Unfortunately, within 10 minutes they had determined this was no quick fix. There were buckets of coolant in the cylinders, a sure sign of a cracked block or blown head gasket. Just taking the engine apart enough to fully diagnose the problem would reportedly take hours.
Seeing the look of disdain on my face, the mechanic pointed out the window and said (I believe half jokingly), “if it were me, I would be hopping on that bus”. As I looked out the window and across the little county highway the mechanic’s shop sat on, I could see a Greyhound bus. The mechanic explained to me that he knew the bus’ next stop would be Chattanooga. I was obviously much more likely to find a rental car in Chattanooga than wherever the heck I was at the moment.
I sprinted out the door and across the highway (dodging traffic again). The Greyhound was parked at a gas station, but the driver was nowhere in sight. I ran inside the gas station and found the driver buying a Coke. I just about tackled the poor guy, trying to beg my way onto the bus. I was in luck. The bus was headed to Chattanooga, and although it was supposed to leave any minute, the driver was willing to wait for me.
The gas station was apparently also doubling as some kind of depot. I stood in a long line (bus waiting) to buy a ticket to Chattanooga. Once I got to the front, the teller informed me I could not buy a ticket on that bus, because the rule was you had to buy the ticket at least one hour before departure. I would have to wait for the next bus, which would not depart until 5 PM!
I obviously raised a little fuss about that, explaining my situation again and trying to convince the teller to bend the rules. His manager came over, and I repeated the story all over again. The manager finally agreed to do it if the driver agreed. I drug the poor driver over to speak with the manager and he ran the ticket. Success!
I then sprinted back across the highway (bus still waiting) to the mechanic’s shop to get my luggage. I grabbed my keys back from the mechanic, pulled my luggage out of the trunk, practically threw the keys back at the mechanic, and started the sprint back, suitcases in tow. The mechanic literally chased me down in the parking lot demanding to know what to do with my car. He also wanted payment for the work he had done already. I asked how much, and he guessed about $50, but he needed to write up a ticket and get my information. I obviously told him (exasperated) that I didn’t have time for all of that. I tossed $50 in cash at him, gave him my cell phone number, and then took off running.
After scrambling across the highway for the third time (bus still waiting), the driver loaded my luggage under the bus and I climbed aboard. Much to my dismay, the bus was PACKED full of screaming kids and rather impatient looking adults. Only two seats were open, most likely because they were the aisle seats directly next to two of the more “interesting” looking passengers. Oh well, I had come this far, so I was going through with it now. I picked a seat next to a probable gang member, said “excuse me sir” (he looked at me like I was from an alien planet), and plopped down.
The bus takes off and we are on our way to Chattanooga. At this point I had to laugh. Literally. The situation was so absurd I started to chuckle a little, which raised some eyebrows to say the least. No one spoke a word to me for the entire ride.
About 70 or 80 minutes later we finally pull into Chattanooga. As we left the highway, I saw we were close to the airport. SURELY they would have rental cars there. As soon as we rolled into the Greyhound depot I was up and the first off the bus. I grabbed my luggage again, sprinting to the opposite side of the depot where a cab was waiting. I asked for a ride to the airport. The driver gave me a look that showed he thought that seemed a little strange for a person who just climbed off a Greyhound bus. He pointed out that the airport was only about a mile away and I could probably walk. By the time he finished that sentence I had already thrown my luggage in his trunk and climbed in. He got the point.
The taxi whisked me over to the airport in probably less than 2 minutes. I threw $20 at the cabbie and took off running again. The first place I saw with no line was Hertz rental cars. I gave my frantic speech again, and within 5 minutes was in a vehicle. God Bless that guy. I even ran to the bathroom (the first time since I left Louisville… ouch!), then tore out of there.
Time of arrival at the Colloquium: 5:09 PM. No kidding. I dumped my car in the parking garage, left all my stuff, and ran to the registration area. There were a few other late arrivers so they hadn’t closed up yet. I checked in and all is well!
There is an old depression-era book called “Go Getter” by Peter Kyne that has a story like this. In fact, that is where the term Go Getter comes from. It also reminds me of a modern TV show, “The Amazing Race”. If nothing else, tenacity gives you some great stories to tell.
Now I just have to figure out how to get home.
