Along with my question about temperature, I will share a funny story. It's true! About five years ago we owned property and a summer cabin in central Pennsylvania. Financial issues dictated that we needed to sell my dream property. My wife was working that day and my plan was to take the 2 Hour Drive, spend an hour or two saying goodbye to my dream, then come home. I did not tell my wife where I was doing, but my health aide knew what I was doing and we were in contact by cell phone. Of course I picked the hottest day of the year, 95 in the shade. The trip went fine, I called my health aide before starting back the mountain to let her know I was okay. I had turned off the car to make this call, started the car, started back the driveway and the van quit. There I was in the forest, could not open the ramp because of trees and no cell service. Okay Lord, tell me what to do. I open the side door of the van, got as close to the side as I could, and I got one bar. I called one of my local emergency numbers, they sent a gentleman from a local service station. By the time he got there, the van engine had cooled down, and it started fine. I told him what I was going to do and I would stop by the service station on my way home. I stayed about two hours, had a good cry or two, then started home. Stopping at the service station he once again checked my van and thought everything looked okay. He gave me a can of carburetor starter in case I had any further problems. At this point I was very hot, but because of the van problems I did not run the air conditioner. About half a mile down the road I thought that I would stop at a convenience store, purchase their cheapest cooler, two bags of ice and 12 bottles of water. The longer I was outside in the van, the hotter I was getting. I was getting close to a heat stroke so is trying to stay in the air conditioning as long as I could. It wasn't working real well. I guess I didn't look too good, one of the employees ask if I was okay. I told him that if I passed out, simply wet me down and I would be okay. I told him what would really help would be to sit in his meat locker for a half-hour. Well, I didn't get into the meat locker, but sat in the cutting room for the next 30 minutes. Feeling better, I started my 2 Hour Drive. If anybody has crossed the Clarks Ferry Bridge just outside Harrisburg Pennsylvania, there is always m oderate traffic. I'm crossing the bridge and almost to the other side my van quits. Quickly looking in the rearview mirror, there was no traffic behind me and an exit was just a few hundred feet away. I take the exit and at the bottom is a large stone parking lot being shaded by the overpass. Wow, what a God thing! First, I called the state police, told them I was in no immediate danger but if they have a cruiser in the area, I was handicapped and could have a heat stroke. Next, I called AAA and gave them the information. In the meantime, I opened the cooler, dumped three bottles of water over my head, started eating ice and waited, and waited, and waited. I was there about an hour, AAA never did find me, neither did the state police. In the parking lot people were coming and going and I guess I still looked a little ratty, probably more like a drowned rat. I spotted a state police cruiser coming up the highway and started to go toward the highway, but not fast enough. The two guys that were watching me actually jumped out on the road and started waving their hands. The police cruiser turns around and comes back. My luck, I get an officer that has just come on duty, not a wrinkle in his uniform and hair neatly combed. He puts on his hat, comes over and asked what's the problem. I tell him the story and asked if he would spray the stuff in the carburetor. Well yes, do you have a screwdriver? Yeah right, right here my back pocket. Well he is screwing around under the hood, a redneck in a pickup truck (no gun in the gun rack) pulled up and asked if he could help. Of course Mr. prim and proper allowed him to pull the vent hose. Mr. prim and proper starts to spray into the carburetor area and the can sprung a big time leak all over his nicely laundered trousers with no wrinkles. He starts spitting out obscenities, throws the can in the grass, where it probably is today and said let's see if it starts now. Of course, it started. We later found out it was the fuel pump in the gas tank that was the issue. After he left, I travel the next hour not following the speed limit, thinking I'll get home before anything else happens. Of course by this time at 7 p.m., 10 hours earlier I started my journey, but by now I needed to let my wife know where I was and I dreaded reaching Washington Boro. Sometimes wives can say more by not saying anything! That's my funny story, and I'll stick to it until my wife tells me otherwise. It's 98° here today, stay cool.
Glenn Henry
