Blow Out

I was thrilled when my parents invited us to go with them on a trip to a convention in San Diego with stops to sightsee going and coming. I had never been to California and was eager to see that part of our country. Wally said we could not go. He could not take time off from work. I knew that he had unused vacation time. He just did not want to spend the money.

That is when I said, “Okay. The children and I will go without you.” (I had a little money saved from substitute teaching.)

Wally still refused to come with us. I bought the tickets, and I and my two small children slept in coach seats on the overnight train trip to Fort Worth to join my parents.

From Fort Worth we headed west in my father’s old Cadillac. The car had air-conditioning, but that used a lot of gas. Mother rolled down the windows and commented on the “nice breeze” that made air-conditioning unnecessary, while in the back seat the kids and I felt the blast of hot air in our faces all day long. Karl, 9, and Martha, 7, were good travelers and did not complain.

The next day, after a stop at Carlsbad Caverns, we drove into a wilderness, up into cool pine forest on a narrow, winding mountain road. I was thinking, “How delightful!” when the wheel on Karl’s side of the car exploded. Daddy steered onto the shoulder beneath a cliff. We all got out and looked at the shredded tire. The road was deserted. Daddy said something about finding a farm house where he could call AAA to come change the tire. That was when I realized my father was helpless outside the city.

We waited 30 minutes before another car came around the bend in the road. Jesus loves my parents. The car stopped. Two burly men got out, Texas troopers headed with their wives to Ruidoso for the races. Within five minutes they changed the tire, and we were on our way.

When we got to Tucson, Wally called and spent an hour of long distance time telling me how cruel I was for going on this trip without him.

He did it again in San Diego.

When we parked in front of my friend’s house in San Francisco, Nora came out to the car and said, “We have a surprise for you.” Wally had flown out and arrived before we did. Somehow he had found he could take time off from work and also found money for air fare to California.

A few days later we left Yosemite. Wally took over the Cadillac. He drove over the Sierras and down the dangerous switchbacks to the desolation of the Nevada desert. We headed at dusk on a deserted road, surrounded on all sides be a black empty flatness when another tire blew out. This time we did not have to wait for strangers. Wally changed the tire.

Besides Carlsbad Caverns and Yosemite, we saw many wonders on this trip: weird rocks at Cochese National Monument, Tombstone, the Lavender Pit copper mine, San Diego Zoo, Hearst Castle, Zion Canyon, not to mention the Pacific Ocean and Grand Canyon. But when I think about this trip, I remember what I learned about my father's helplessness. And about my husband.