The Blessings of a Flat Tire

Friday morning was my annual pilgrimage to Ohiopyle, Pennsylvania to fry sausage for the Buckwheat, Pancake, and Sausage Festival. It is the major fund raiser for the Ohiopyle Volunteer Fire Company. I’ve helped since 1973, first as a dishwasher, then as a cake baker, finally settling down to fry sausage. I’d been recruited by my father-in-law Bud Morrison.

On my morning drive to Ohiopyle, I thought, “Wow, a weekend festival without rain. They should have a great turnout,” but when I drove into Ohiopyle, traffic was restricted to one lane on both ends of town and parking space was reduced significantly. Since the state designated it as a park, their “improvements” have sorely impacted the town.

After frying most of the day, all I could think of was going home and putting my feet up. As I neared Falling Water, I could hear a thrumming sound from a tire. Crossing the bridge near Bear Run School my tire went and I pulled over at a wide spot in front of the church. I was concerned. This area is dark with no houses. The flat tire was on the side closest to traffic and in the shadow of my car. I backed into the church parking lot where there was light and unloaded the spare tire and jack from the trunk. I set up to change the tire, but I found I couldn’t break the lug nuts free.

I heard a vehicle slow, then stop. It was a park ranger checking on me. I explained what happened. The side wall of my tire was shredded confirming my story. He volunteered to help. I thanked him profusely, but was still feeling flustered and failed to give him a Gospel tract for his kindness. I didn’t get his name, but I’d like to extend my sincere gratitude to him should he read this blog.

I prayed all the way home on Saturday morning that I hadn’t damaged the rim. At the tire center, I met a young employee. He’d heard me talking to another customer about the books I’d written and said that he liked to read. He shared some rough circumstances of his life he’d endured growing up. I was impressed with his forthrightness. I told him my books were in the Mt. Pleasant Library. Before I left with new tires, I gave him one of my business cards and a Gospel tract.

The blessing of the flat tire was the location where it happened, the arrival of the park ranger, my safe trip home, and that the tire rim wasn’t damaged. I was also thankful to have met this young man and was able to share a Gospel tract.