A Divine Re-encounter

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!