A few years ago, we took our motor home to visit our son in Vancouver, British Columbia.
Everything went well until we were crossing a very busy bridge on the freeway entering Portland, Ore. The usually fast cars were forced to stop for several minutes on the four-lane freeway.
One of the times while we were stopped, we noticed a tractor-trailer had pulled up on the right side of us — and it seemed to have come out of the blue. The driver motioned for us to roll down the window. He said he had been following us for a while, trying to catch up to tell us that we had a bad leak of red fluid coming out of our motor home.
The traffic was at a full stop by that time, so I got out and looked under the motor home, and sure enough — red fluid was dripping out of our transmission! It was a miracle that driver was able to catch us in the thick traffic.
The semi driver was very nice and offered to keep the right side of traffic back so we could move to the outside lane and take a nearby exit about 100 yards away. We thanked him profusely and he went on his way.
About one or two blocks up from the freeway, we found a little transmission repair shop. The men outside the shop said the shop owner was too busy, but the fellow said he would be happy to help us.
He dropped what he had been doing and enlisted his helper, and they worked on the transmission and oil seal until they were finished. We were back on the road at 1 a.m.
My wife, Elaine, always says a prayer before we start on a trip. The appearance of the semi driver, the convenient exit and the nearby shop with willing workers were too many coincidences to explain away as we felt blessed and watched over.
Charles K. Revell lives in St. George.
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