what I did on my Vacation.

What I did on my vacation.

.I got back from my trip from Gatlinburg, where I had been learning metalworking for a weekl about 9 p.m. on Saturday after being on the road since 9 a.m. Long day, but a strange one. I went up into the Smokies early, hoping to pick up Blue Ridge Pkwy. for a limited scenic drive. The mountains on the south side were completely enveloped in fog and it was getting worse the farther I went, so sightseeing seemed out of the question. I turned around and went back, eventually picking up I- 40 which would lead eventually into I-75 no. I decided to wait until I got to the border between Tenn. & Ky. before having lunch, and stopped at a Wendy’s in Jellico.

Back on the road (being happily entertained by David Sedaris cds) I was north of Berea when I decided to gas up. Pulled into one of those mega-stations where access is endangered by trucks bigger than most houses I’ve lived in. And discovered I didn’t have my purse. In a flash of concise memory, I envisioned my purse sitting on the floor near my chair at the window in Wendy's, and knew with certainty, that I had not picked it up. The exit I had taken offered a Wendy’s, so I went there, asked for the manager and requested that he call the Jellico Wendy’s and see if it had been turned in. It had, however, there was a little problem of gas to get there. The manager wanted me to take $20. he offered out of sheer kindness, but I thought I could make it on the 3/8 tank I had left. I couldn’t. It hit empty at Corbin.

I pulled off and found a quiet place where I could search pockets, cracks in the upholstery, grungy unreachable floor moldings, little crevices with no possible use, in my car hoping to dig up enough to take me the 29 mi. needed to reach my purse. The take came to .51 and a gallon of gas was $2.66. So I pulled into the Love’s station, went inside, along with about 50 teenagers who just disembarked from a bus, explained my situation to the cashier, who got the manager, who gave me a gallon of gas. The little cashier, sporting immense braces, and very shy, had scrounged up a pile of change in the meantime and pushed that toward me. Such kindness. I could not believe. I pulled up to a pump, put in my gallon and actually made it Jellico where they had my purse.

It was really an incredible day. I have a tendency to cynicism. I think it’s a result of having been kicked as many times as I have. But this was such a positive experience, almost a religious experience, finding good people who helped me, a total stranger. I made it a point to remember the exit where I got the gallon of gas and returned the money on my way back. I plan to write letters to both companies commending the kind of people they employ. For a little while, my faith is restored.

And I did send those letters