You would think that we would have a bit of luck after all the misfortunes that had occurred on leaving England, wouldn't you? Oh but you would be wrong. It seems Dame Misfortune was not quite ready to cross us off her list of people to annoy. We had been at Mama's for several days when she offered us a gift of her lovely little Le Mans Pontiac...Mama had purchased this car with her winnings from a lottery drawing in Quito (Ecuador) several years before. So we were able to take the blasted rental car to the Florence Airport and turn it in. I was wishing desperately that I had the phone number for WitchyPoo at the New York office so that I might reassure her that the car was not going to be left in the dreaded Montgomery Airport lot after all. But why should I make her feel better? And that made me feel better. I was hoping she was having nightmares about what might be happening to that horrid little car, comfort not being "Job 1". I followed Mac in the LeMans and we turned the keys over, someone came out to inspect the car (making sure we hadn't kept the hubcaps or something) and as we were all leaving, a big Lincoln that was backing out of one of the narrow spaces did the unthinkable...it backed directly into the rental car...Mac and I kept walking, it was no longer our problem. But I was nearly bent double laughing and Mac was making a concerted effort to keep his composure. Finally he allowed a snicker to emerge as he glanced back at the car..."messed that bumper up pretty good," he allowed. And then he burst out laughing. So, we got in the Le Mans and drove back to Mama's for another day or two. I had packed everything and the cases were by the door and Mama was busy spoiling Digby with chitt'lins and we had called Mac's folks to let them know when we would be coming in. My sister Toni and brother in law Tim had been down the day before from their home in Columbia, SC. We had been to see as much family as possible, but we would be coming back through on our way to the new Duty Station of Colts Neck, New Jersey where Earle NWS was located. We had thirty days leave and were trying to use it wisely. Mac always preferred to drive at night due to less traffic. We pulled out at about 9 pm and headed down highway 145 to go pick up US1. After avoiding a rear end collision with a farm tractor that was riding merrily down the road without a lick of lights, we safely picked up Interstate 20. I was enjoying watching the lights and listening to the radio when I saw what looked like sparks flying by the window. I asked Mac if it was lightening bugs. He assured me it was to late for lightening bugs, it was after all December...but I kept seeing the sparks. "I think you need to pull over , honey...I'm pretty sure the engine may be on fire." He said he was pretty sure I was imagining things, but pulled over as I requested. Now, in the trunk of the car were our cases, Christmas presents for the boys (we would be spending Christmas at Mac's parents house) my boots...(my lovely hand crafted boots that I had not allowed to be packed for the move home, but had carried in our luggage.) Mac popped the hood and the flames poured out from underneath. We hurriedly grabbed the boys and Digby and I stood with them on the side of this busy highway looking around to see where we were. I kept hearing a popping noise that didn't seem to be coming from the car, Michael was cranky to have been pulled not only out of a sound sleep but the car as well, Mac was getting our belongings out of harms way when we saw a wrecker headed up off ramp towards us. We didn't know how they happened to see us up there, but he pulled in behind us and started yelling for us all to get in the truck and be quick about it. So the five of us managed to squeeze in the cab of the truck and leaving the car, luggage and packages with the car (which had seemed to stop burning and now just smoldered) along side the road, he headed back down the ramp (the wrong way) and pulled into the service station I had spotted from the roadway. While we were heading down to the station he explained that there had been a prison break and that there was a gunfight going on at that very moment. "Oh, that would explain the popping noises I heard, then," I said. "Yep, that would have been it," he said. "You folks are lucky that I was looking up that way and saw the car blaze up!" Oh yes, we agreed we had been lucky. He hustled us all inside the store where we lay down on the floor behind the counter with the Clerk. Digby, who had had a nap and was now ready to play, was being a bit difficult to control. The clerk started feeding her meat skins, (she seemed to like them as much as the chitt'lins) and talked to her. I asked the Wrecker Driver if he could possibly hand me down the phone from the counter so I could call my sister. "She lives here in Columbia and we're going to need her help, I'm afraid," I whispered. We were still hearing gun shots going off and the boys were past the "isn't this exciting" stage and were now in the "pretty frightened" stage. I got Toni on the phone and began to tell her about all that had transpired and she interrupted excitedly, "you don't need to be stopping there, there's a gunfight going on...I looked Mac in the eye and pointed to the phone..."she says there's a gunfight going on, think I should tell her
exactly where we are?" Wallace and Michael were now sitting with their backs against the counter and nervously looking around, wondered aloud how long we'd be stuck here. "Hopefully not long, " I tried to reassure them, "and Uncle Tim is going to come get us as soon as this is over. It's going to be alright, we won't let anything happen to you." Our older son Wallace, looked around him and then said in a perfectly beautiful British accent...with a bit of a snort in his voice "welcome to the USA!"
Next Installment: Why is our mattress wrapped around the piano?