A trip, a detour, and some new friends

A few weeks ago my friend Georgia invited me to join her on a trip to visit her hometown, Americus, Georgia. We were going to attend a ceremony dedicating a highway to her father who was the founder of Habitat for Humanity and the Fuller Center for Housing. Although my friendship with Georgia is new, I couldn't pass up a chance at adventure and some time away from the everyday grind. I also knew it would give me a chance to spend time getting to know Georgia, someone I seemed to connect with quite easily.

So after arranging babysitting and disaster-proofing the weekend for my husband and child, I hopped in Georgia's car, and we were off. The conversation flowed easily for the first hour. To be honest it flowed so incredibly easy, each of our thoughts bouncing off of the other's, one idea building on the next as we shared where we were in our marriages, family life, artistic pursuits, and humanitarian ideas. Bounce, bounce, bounce went our ideas...until the car literally began to bounce. Speeding down I-75, the car abruptly began to slow down. The panic started to creep in when Georgia realized the error of our ways. We had run out of gas.

I rolled down the windows as Georgia called for roadside assistance. "About an hour," they told us. Within 15 minutes, a nice, young sheriff pulled up behind us, and asked if we needed help. Georgia batted her pretty eyelashes and asked in her sweetest voice, "Policemen don't, by any chance, provide the service of getting gas, do they?"

"If you are still here in an hour, I might could," he responded, unfazed by her desperate, roadside charm and then drove off. An hour came and went with no return visit, and we learned that "might could" is just a polite, but definitive "no."

Fortunate for us, assistance eventually arrived in the form of two tow truck drivers who informed us we were in the middle of no where, a.k.a. Jasper, Florida. They were nice men, to-the-point with thick country accents and rural sensibilities. In no time they filled our tank with gas. We said thanks and cranked the car only to find it had no crank. The battery was dead. So the nice, disbelieving men pulled up their truck, connected our vehicles, and began to give us power. But, as if in a very bad dream, when Georgia tried to turn the key, she couldn't. It was stuck. Very stuck...as in all four of us taking turns pulling, pushing, wriggling, and praying. Still, no unsticking. In a later retelling of the events, Georgia would remark that had we gotten the key to work, a tire would certainly have fallen off.

Seeing no other way around it, we agreed to be towed. We hopped in the back of their truck and deliberated on where to be towed. We could turn around and drive 20 minutes back to Lake City. It would be the cheapest route in tow fees, though the back-tracking on our trip seemed depressing. On the other hand, we could be towed further up north, and incur greater towing fees but be heading in the right direction. I could tell Georgia had a certain determination about her and wanted to keep going towards our final destination. She looked to me for my opinion.

I think I said something like, "I have babysitting all weekend. I don't care what we do, so long as we don't go back to Jacksonville." Yes, come to think of it, that's exactly how I put it.

Off to Valdosta we were. Fortunately for us, there was a rental car available, a premium car at a premium price. We laughed at the irony of going to a ceremony celebrating a man who championed for the poor and arriving in a luxury vehicle. But at least the ride would be smooth from here on out, assuming frequent trips to the gas station.

The tow guys followed us to the auto body shop where Georgia penned a long letter describing the reason for the tan, 1996 Saturn sitting in their empty parking lot on a Friday night. As she wrote, I talked with the men about their hometown of Jasper, learning that both men live on farms, care for livestock, and have been close friends ever since grade school. Everybody knows everybody in Jasper, and the doctor who delivered one guy's wife also delivered the wife's mother. That doctor retired only a couple of years ago.

I snapped some pictures of our new friends, and as Georgia posed with one of them, he turned to her and said, "You know the famous chef Art Smith? That's my brother. We grew up on the farm together. He used to be Oprah Winfrey's chef." She looked at me, wide-eyed, and I stepped in closer to hear the story. He retold it to me, and as I looked at his face, I instantly realized who his brother is. In fact, I had seen him two weeks prior on Top Chef remarking about one contestant's delicious pea puree.

"I know exactly who your brother is, just by looking at you!" I told him, and he seemed satisfied to be able to say he's related to someone famous. "Do you keep in touch?" I asked.

"No. We grew up on the farm together. He went off to the city, and I stayed with the farm. He visits my mom. He took her to China to see that great wall," he said.

We chatted a few more minutes while paperwork was signed, and they eventually packed up and drove off in the direction of Jasper, right back to their farms and livestock and the country doctor who treated four generations of patients. We hopped in our fancy car, relieved to be back on track.

You know, the rest of the weekend was really great. I met Georgia's wonderful family and a ton of great people who work for the Fuller Center for Housing. They are a dynamic group of people who are so passionate about building homes for the poor, and it was inspiring to witness the dedication of the highway in honor of Georgia's Dad. But I think what I'm going to remember most about my trip is that little off road adventure that started with a thirsty car on a busy highway. The road we were traveling down had other places to take us.

Ruth Ann Schabacker says, "Each day comes bearing its own gifts. Untie the ribbons." As a mother, wife, artist, and daughter of Christ, I'm learning to care less about the arriving and more about the process of getting there. There is so much humor, inspiration, and surprise in the adventure.

Life is funny. Even if I had tried I couldn't have thought of a funnier story than meeting these two guys with their famous connection. Then again, if I spent some more time in Jasper, Florida, I suppose I "might could".