The Angels of 49

I had painted myself into a corner before I even turned on the car.  I was supposed to be in Hattiesburg by 4 p.m. and it was 2:15.  The only way I’d make Main Street Books  in time for my book signing was for me to catch every traffic light on green.  If you know Highway 49, you know that wasn’t going to happen.

I headed south. Quickly.

Around Richland, I noticed the range gauge on my dashboard. It tells you how many miles the car has left before it runs out of gas. It read only 90 miles.  Not good. I’d have to stop. But I didn’t have time to stop.  So I kept driving.

Surprisingly, I did hit more green lights than red lights.  I made it to Magee (halfway) in great time.  The car was getting nearly 30 mpg. I might just make it!

A loud pop under my car woke me from my delusion.  “Great,” I thought. I had just gotten the car out of the shop (new radiator). Now something else was broken. Nothing seemed amiss, though, so I kept driving.  Then I noticed my traction-control light was on.  You have to understand, I am a bit skittish about dashboard lights. When my car was shot, the dash lit up like a Christmas Tree. Call it PTSD or whatever, my stomach sank and I panicked. I called the service department and asked them what it might be.  Then I noticed, I was running low on gas. I was in the town of Seminary and stuck in traffic. (They’re paving 49 through there).

The service technician said it might have been a rock or stick from the road cutting the ABS cable for the anti-lock brakes.  WHAT? That’s nuts. They then said I’d have brakes but no ABS. They had never heard that happening on my kind of car.  YIKES.  My head spun.  Between a spinning head and road construction, I drove on past the gas station.

It’s longer to Hattiesburg from Seminary than I thought. My range rapidly counted down like some kind of twisted James Bond movie.  7…6….4…..3….2…..1…..  By the sod farm on 49, it hit 0. No gas stations in sight.  I was technically out of gas.  But the car kept going. I cut the A/C and radio off. Anything to make it more miserly.  Those were some of the loneliest moments of my life. I only had my own stupidity to keep me company.

I know from experience there is about a half of a gallon of gas in the tank when the range hits 0.  That would be good for about 15 miles if the wind was blowing right.  And 11 miles down the road, like an oasis in a desert, was a Shell station.  I stopped, filled up and worried about my brakes.

I was already late to my book signing. Now I was worried about paying for a potentially expensive car repair.

When I started up the car, the light wasn’t on. I called the service department back.  Maybe the rock had just hit the sensor, jarred it and it had reset when I started the car.  Who knows. But even this morning it’s still not on.  I pray it is the $1,000 miracle.

Distracted would be a good word for the book signing. I was worn out and my mind was all over the place, but I enjoyed everyone who bought a book and all the other authors who were there. (It was the 10th annual Author Extravaganza at Main Street Books.)  Banjo had another good night and I called it an evening.  Robert St. John invited me to eat with him and Wyatt, but I was exhausted and stressed so I decided to head back home.

By the time I got to downtown Jackson, my radio started skipping. The music would suddenly jump ahead like there were 30-second gaps in time.  With horror, I figured out what was happening… I was falling asleep!  It wasn’t like when you are sitting there and your head starts nodding.  No, sleep was a silent thief, stealing my consciousness and pushing me toward death.  I panicked but thankfully had managed to keep the car in the lane. Seeing a Ridgeland Cop running radar woke me up enough to get me home.

I was shaking by the time I pulled in the garage. I fell to my knees, knowing how damn lucky I had been.

The angels of 49 guided me last night and protected me.  I am not sure why my car suddenly fixed itself. I’m not quite sure why there was a loaves and fishes and moment with my gas tank. And I know a guiding hand kept me alive when I fell asleep.

I took too many stupid risks last night. Stupid risks.  I could have cost my family dearly. Please, the next time you take a trip, plan ahead. Give yourself plenty of time. And if you are tired, pull over.  Because the angels of 49 can’t always work their miracles.

I’m just thankful they did last night.