My wife, Linda, and I planned to drive through the night from New Orleans to South Carolina to visit our parents for Christmas. Linda worried about our car. My Mercury was 11 years old, with no hubcaps and an exterior dinged up worse than a boxer. I insisted it was in good running condition, though. \u201cJust missing a spare tire, that\u2019s all.\u201d<\/p>\n
Two in the morning, somewhere in Alabama, I heard a loud bang, followed by a flapping sound. It was just our luck\u2014a tire had blown out.<\/p>\n
There\u2019d been no open service station for miles. \u201cWhat can we do?\u201d Linda asked.<\/p>\n
I pulled over and tried to think. My eyes scanned the heavily wooded area around us. A soft orange glow caught my eye. The light shone from the doorway of a small shanty in the woods just off the road. An elderly man emerged with a kerosene lantern. I cracked the window as he approached my car.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat seems to be the problem, captain?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cBlowout,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
He lowered his lantern to take a look. \u201cI got a tire that\u2019ll fit that,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n