June 8, 2017 Trip to Oberlin, Ohio
On Tuesday evening, Karen looked up from her Facebook and
said that Connie had just posted that Simon needs a ride to Oberlin College
this week. "Was there anyone who could give him a ride?" I
immediately said that I could. I did not have any work at Alderfer Glass this
week and I would welcome the opportunity to spend some time with this gentleman
from Korea whom I highly admire. Besides, it would be a chance to have some
conversations that were not in my typical “echo chamber”. Simon is a 22-year-old
from Korea who obviously has a different slant on world events than I do. And
he is an excellent English speaker and is very articulate. It would be a
pleasure. So, I sent a text to Connie saying that I could take him. Her
incredulous response was to ask me, “Are you serious?” I assured her that no, I
was Ken! But I went on to assure her that I was also serious! So, it was
arranged. I would meet at the Hunsberger house for a patented Hunsberger
breakfast at 8:00 Thursday morning and leave on the 450 mile, 8 hour trip at
9:00. The breakfast was great as well as the surprise visit to the breakfast
table of Kaci, Tyler’s lovely girlfriend. Also appearing, but barely
functioning, was Tyler's sister Lanae, freshly dressed in her Chick-filet
uniform. It was clearly way too early a breakfast for Lanae's liking!
The trip was full of interesting conversation and an
increasing understanding of each other’s worlds. Unfortunately, there was an
accompanying accumulation of the effects of the morning’s coffee that needed to
find an appropriate receptacle. So, we found a gas station and I engaged the
lady behind the counter with some conversation as Simon used the rest room. By
the time he came back out, the lady had tears in her eyes from having told me
the sad story of events of her morning. To cheer her up, I got her a
CrossPuzzle from out of the car so she could focus her mental energy on using
it to challenge her husband that evening. She was deeply thankful. Simon was
equally amazed that I would talk with a perfect stranger. That just does not
happen in Korea! But it turned out not to be the last time during the day that
he would be amazed.
Relieved, with emptied tanks, we
proceeded on across Interstate I80, thoroughly engaged in conversation and
completely unmindful of the fact the car was also emptying its tank! That was
until the low fuel warning light came on and the needle of the gauge was no
longer registering! Fortunately, considering our absent mindedness, there was
an exit just ahead and a gas station at the end of the exit! Unfortunately, the
station had been out of service for several years! Fortunately, Simon could
summon up the address of the closest station. Unfortunately, it was 7 miles
distant in the wrong direction! But when we finally found it, the proprietor
actually came out to pump the gas for us.
I asked him, “Did I get on the
Interstate going the wrong way? Am I in New Jersey? That is the only place in
the nation where people pump gas for you!”
He assured me that, "No,
this was full service gas station."
He seemed like a friendly kind of
older gentleman so I asked, “What makes you an interesting person?”
He looked at me in a curious sort
of way and replied, “Well, I’m not that interesting, but this town is! It is
the home of the Piper Cub airplane. We had our own silk mill, our own lumber
industry and our own chair manufacturing company."
With Simon gazing in astonishment
at the scene from the other side of the car, amazed that I had engaged in a
conversation with yet another stranger, the man continued with a very
full-bodied description of the lively life of this little mountain town that he
had experienced over the past 40 years of owning the only gas station. When the
gas pump clicked off, I paid him, thanked him for the gas, the service, and the
stories. As sort of a reward for his kind service, I dug into the truck of the
car and got out a CrossPuzzle which I presented to him. As his gaze fastened
upon what I had laid in his hand, a soft look came into his eyes and he started
to tell me about his own ministry using crosses.
Apparently, some years back, an
atheist, living in the little Christmas village of Frankenmuth, Michigan, had
tried to make them get rid of the two crosses decorating the bridge coming into
the town. Being successful with that request, he then tried to get the town to
remove the cross from their city shield. The residents had had enough and
rebelled by making little white crosses with which they began to use to
decorate their front yards. Dan, the gentleman who had just finished filling my
tank, had seen these crosses and was inspired to make many more crosses like
them and to distribute to people across America as a statement that reminded
people that this nation was founded on Judeo-Christian beliefs. The
Presbyterian Church, down the street from the gas station, entered into this
project with Dan and together they made and distributed 1500 of the little
white crosses to be placed in front yards across America. The called the effort
"Cross The Country" with the "T" in "The" being
shaped like a cross.
So here I had, by pure
happenstance and a bit of absent-mindedness, run into another man who shared my
same ministry objective of getting the Cross across America! He gave me one of
his white crosses to take along with me on my trip. The two
"Cross-men" had met by happy chance...and it seemed like a rather
wondrous thing! And it was – except that it was going to get better!
Dan told us the short route back
to I80, which we followed, and were soon on our way westward toward Oberlin,
Ohio. Upon arriving, Simon did a great job showing me around this uber-liberal
college, nestled into the solid conservative landscape of Northern Ohio. He was
planning to stay there for two weeks, studying for his part in Mozart's opera,
Don Giovanni, which he will be performing in Italy this summer along with 44 of
his colleagues from the Oberlin Classical Music Conservatory.
At breakfast the next morning, I
told Simon that I was planning to take a leisurely trip home and possibly try
to find the place along I80 where the RV had broken down on the way home from
Colorado last May. I had taken three friend, Rob, Jim and Tyler to the
Christian Writers Conference in Estes Park, Colorado and had been returning
along route I80 when the vehicle suddenly lost power. We fortunately could limp
off the road at a nearby exit and pull in to a functioning garage close by.
After unsuccessfully trying to diagnose it for several hours, they sent me to
another, rather dilapidated garage several miles down the road. There, a kindly
and energetic young man had wheeled under the stricken RV on his broken creeper
cart and had separated the exhaust header from the muffler, allowing the engine
to breath, or more precisely, exhale, again. That simple, minor adjustment
allowed us to get back on the road and complete the final leg of the "Trip
of a Lifetime"! It was this kindly, young man on the creeper who I was
determined to find and thank for his generosity. He had refused payment,
saying, "No, just glad to be able to help!" I had given him one of my
CrossPuzzles and Rob had given him several copies of his recently released
book. It would be fun to find him again.
Except he wasn't there. Or at
least he wouldn't have been there had the relaxing trip across the rolling
mountains of central Pennsylvania gone as planned! But it didn't! At about mile
marker 65, everything came to a screeching halt. Cars, trucks and semis were
lined up in a double-wide ribbon stretching to the horizon. All of them
traveling at zero miles per hour. And a quick look at the traffic indicator on
my phone's GPS showed a solid red line caused by an accident 15 miles ahead on
the Eastbound side of I80. East was the direction I was going. But...maybe...if
I get off at exit 70 I can sneak around the mess by going through Brookville
and coming out ahead of it. Yes, route 322 through Brookville also showed some
congestion, but by zooming in real tight on the GPS screen, I could see a
little side road that lead to yet another side road. If I took both of them it
would get me around that jam-up! I had a plan! Except that that plan didn't
work as planned either! After traversing that pot-hole infested first little
side road I came upon a brand-new accident, right in the middle of the
intersection with the next side road. And it was not going to be cleared any
time soon. So, there was no option but to re-traverse all the potholes and wait
in the line of traffic edging its way through Brookville. Although not in a
hurry after all, my patience was wearing a bit thin, especially after I checked
the GPS traffic situation again and found that that 15-mile red line had
completely disappeared while I was navigating through the potholes! If I had
only been patient...
But at least the miraculous
disappearance of the red line of stopped traffic on my GPS assured me that it
was now easy sailing eastward through the mountains, towering up into the
crystal blue skies, raked occasionally by wispy cirrus clouds. I soon arrived
at that fateful exit where the RV had made its gasping, under-powered exit. And
there was the garage that had so unsuccessfully changed the oil filter and
checked the exhaust pressure and did everything they could to fix the things
that were not wrong. And yes! This road looked familiar as I recalled landmarks
along the way that we had crept by in second gear; the highest gear that the
dying engine of the RV could achieve a year ago. And there was the dilapidated
repair shop, surrounded now by even more broken-down trucks and rusty,
indeterminate heaps of steel. Dunkle
Construction, the home of that kindly young man on the creeper. Except that
when I made my way into the interior of this forbidding building to the
cave-like room that served as the command center of the enterprise, the young
lady greeted me with, "Sorry! There is no one here to do repair or pick up
stones. They are all gone."
"Oh, that's ok," I
replied. "I'm not here for repair or for rocks. I just want to talk about
that thing by your elbow."
"What?" came the
surprised response.
"I want to talk about that
thing by your elbow!"
The girl rotated her gaze down to
her elbow which was resting on the counter, brushing up against the CrossPuzzle
that I had left there the year before. "You see, I made that cross!"
I said.
Recognition burst into her eyes
as she picked up the cross! "Oh, you're the guy with the RV! Did you ever
make it home?"
"Yes," I said. "We
most certainly did! No problem at all except that the loud exhaust noise almost
caused a horse and buggy to plummet into the creek when the horse bolted at the
sound of the engine. And the fact that we needed to keep all the windows open
in the van the whole way home to prevent the build-up of exhaust fumes from the
compromised exhaust system!"
"But," I continued,
"I really wanted to come back and thank that young man on the broken
creeper."
"Oh, Evan!", she exclaimed!
"He's a gem! Always looking to help other in a jam. Which is what you guys
were in last year! But he isn't here now. Sorry!"
"That's ok," I said.
"I was just in the area and thought I would stop by. In fact, I was
somewhere near here yesterday as well, looking for a gas station. I almost ran
out of gas and finally found this little one-pump station where the guy was
very kindly. And talkative. The amazing thing is that he also makes crosses;
little white ones."
"Oh!" she said.
"That's Evan's granddad, Dan Duck!"
As I stood in stunned amazement,
she told me that she had not actually seen any of the crosses. So, I suggested
that she go out to the car with me and I would show her one. I dug the one that
Dan had given me out of the back seat and was handing it to her just as a truck
came wheeling into the parking lot.
"Oh, there's Evan now!"
she exclaimed.
I carried the 2-foot-high, white
cross over to the man getting out of the truck. "Have you ever seen one of
these?" I asked holding it in front of him.
"Of course!" he
exclaimed. "My grandfather and I have made hundreds of them!"
"And do you know who I
am," I asked.
"Yes!" he said as he
suddenly remembered me. "You're the guy with the RV!"
"Exactly," I said.
"And it was our grandfather that gave me this white cross yesterday! I
think we have just completed a really big divine re-encounter!" I grasped
his hand and gave it a fervent shake. "Your repair job worked splendidly
and I just want to stop and thank you for your skill and generosity. But it looks
like God wanted to make the occasion even more special! And if God had not arranged for that traffic jam on I80 to synchronize our being here together in this parking lot, I would not have been able to meet you!"
There was just one more thing I
needed to do to put a lovely bow on top of this present from God. That was to
revisit Dan Duck at the gas station. Unbeknownst to me, it was only about two
miles up the road! So, I drove over and pulled up to the pump. Again, Dan
emerged from the station to service his returning customer. Only this time I
told him I didn't need gas. I just wanted to share a story. "Do you know a
man by the name of Evan Duck?" I asked.
He looked at me questioningly,
not knowing where this was going. "Yes, he's my grandson!" he said.
"He certainly is! And a
wonderful grandson at that!" I went on to fill in the rest of the story
for him. What a thrill that was! And then I gave him one of my Classic
CrossPuzzles, one of the large ones that I made before Tyler had me shrink
them to half size. And with a white cross in one arm and a CrossPuzzle in the
other, he posed for a picture - Pennsylvania's two Cross-men united with each
other's crosses, having found each other while standing next to the only gas
pump in Mill Hall, Pennsylvania! A truly divine re-encounter!
If your tank's running low, you can enjoy Dan's story and hospitality for yourself if you stop at the only Gulf station in Mill Hall, Pennsylvania, just north of the Interstate I80. He'll pump the gas for you!
