By Staff
Scot Beard
There are quite a few things my car – a Toyota Corolla – will do better than any other vehicle I have ever owned.
The heating and cooling system works in record speed, the ride is smoother than a baby's backside and it gets the best gas mileage I have ever seen.
There is one thing, however, it can't do very well – venture off the pavement.
Saturday morning I arrived at ball fields in Phil Campbell to cover the Franklin County baseball and softball tournaments.
Paved parking is nowhere to be found, but my car had handled the task the other time I had gone to cover the Bobcats and Lady Bobcats play.
The difference this time was there were torrential rains the day before and the ground was softer than a feather pillow.
As I pulled into the parking area I had two options – park on the grass, downhill in front of a school bus, or try to park on the large, rock covered lot. I picked the second option and soon realized I had made a mistake.
When I felt my front tires start to sink, I decided to put the car in reverse and take my chances with the bus.
I backed out about 15 feet before my front passenger side tire ventured off the graveled area and found nothing but mud.
I tried to free the car, but it was useless – I was bogged down in the mud. I shoved a couple of broken limbs under the tires to try to get some traction, but that did not work.
I figured if I gave it a few hours the ground would dry up some and I might be able to get a little better traction.
I am still sure that theory would have worked, but the sun never came out and the ground remained soggy. When I tried to move the car later, it didn't budge.
I called my wife to bring me a shovel so I could dig some trenches for the tires to ride in as I backed the car out.
A few minutes later, a couple of guys approached me and offered to help get my car out of the mud. We tried a few times, but the car still wouldn't budge.
The guys went and got a few of their friends and the car was soon freed. I parked on the grass to avoid further problems.
I called my wife to let her know I did not need the shovel and five minutes later the sun began to shine.
I did not get the names of the guys who helped me, but I did tell them repeatedly that I was thankful for their assistance.
In a world where you can't turn on the nightly news anymore without seeing a mass shooting somewhere, it is refreshing to know there are still people out there willing to help their fellow man.
These gentlemen gave me more than assistance; they gave me a ray of hope that the world might not be getting as bad as I thought it was.
I wish I had gotten their names so I could thank them publicly.
So I will take this opportunity to thank them one more time. Thank you, and to the gentleman I accidentally spun mud on, I am sorry.