Sunlight Shining Through Cloud

The Meaning Of Life

Posted on: June 16, 2012

He pulled the gleaming new Silverado into the gravel parking lot and rolled to a stop near us. Gary said to me, “This guy lost his wife in an accident last month at Four Mile Corner.” He then walked over to the driver’s side and extended his iron-strong hand.

The guy might have been sixty, hadn’t had a haircut in a while, was wearing a plaid shirt and the obligatory ball cap. Maybe a farmer or a rancher, his face had seen its share of weather. His lenses tinted dark in the morning sun. He reached into a shirt pocket and joined Gary in a cigarette. From the other pocket, he drew some photographs.

“This is what hit us,” he said. “He t-boned us so hard, it knocked the fifth-wheel right out of the bed of the pickup. The airbags didn’t inflate. Her shoulder belt held so tight that it broke some ribs. EMS got three calls from the scene, but didn’t send a paramedic until a fireman called; I had to cut her out. They took us to the hospital. She had a punctured lung. She went into cardiac arrest three times. They airlifted us to Minot.”

Upwards of twenty-thousand trucks move through Williston’s Four Mile Corner every day. Add to that the cars and pickups and you have a real mess. They put traffic lights there a couple of months back, and a truck destroyed the intersection’s control box just a week later. It’s been flashing yellows and reds ever since. Testosterone-fueled decision-making yields a harrowing experience for all. I could just hear the truck driver tell the cops, “I thought I could make it.”

I was getting my car fixed at Gary’s shop. It’s a mammoth-sized garage that he’s run by himself for generations. Tools of all kinds and ages are strewn about and Gary knows the location of each one. Johnny Cash plays from the radio, and calendars with drawings of beautiful naked women hang high up on the walls. They date back to 1953.

The garage also serves as a gathering place. When I first came here on Wednesday, I learned that the price of admission was a case of beer for the community fridge. It was too early for beer, today, so I brought a dozen donuts fresh from the bakery. Coffee and donuts and assorted neighbors; the conversation ranged from the Oil Patch to the Vietnam War to rebuilding the church west of here. Somewhere in the middle of that, Gary started working on my car.

And now he handed the pictures back to the Silverado guy. “How are you doing?” Gary asked. “Well, I’m doin’ okay, I guess,” was the brave answer. “Don’t think I’ll buy another fifth-wheel, though. I’m headed for family in Minnesota. Maybe I’ll come back after summer.” And for just a moment, I thought Gary was going to hug him…but that’s not his way.

I may not have much in this life right now. What I do have is the ability to breathe and walk.

And I have a good mechanic.

1 Response to "The Meaning Of Life"

finding the positives in life. good.

Comments are closed.

%d bloggers like this: