[ back ]
Visitor stuck in ditch; hosts catch his drift
(by Hertha Binder - January 29, 2009)
OF KIDS AND NATURE, BY HERTHA BINDER
Visitor stuck in ditch; hosts catch his drift
All the little events of many Geauga winters are a bit blurry in my memory, but one day stands out clearly. Overnight, a storm had dumped more than a foot of snow, and the wind had piled up high drifts on the road.
At that time, we already had our office adjacent to the home, so my husband, Tom, and I didn't have to drive anywhere. Patients canceled or just didn't show up, and we called the secretaries to stay home. Electricity wasn't out yet, and Tom had a cozy fire going in the wood stove -- just in case.
Suddenly, there was a loud banging on the door. When I opened, a man was standing there. "Can I use your phone? I live just at the curve. My car's in your ditch. It's quite deep."
"Sure is," I said. "I'll open the other door and let you in the waiting room. Are you all right?"
He grunted agreement.
In the office, I showed him. "Here's the phone."
"You have a phone book? I wanna call my wife."
"You don't know your own number?"
"Nah, I never use it."
I left him alone for awhile. When I came back, he was leafing through Sports Illustrated. "They sure are jerks." He pointed at a picture.
"Yeah. Say, did you reach anyone? Is someone gonna tow you out?"
"Don't think so."
"How come?"
"My brother, he has a pickup, lives just on Butternut Road, but he's stuck hisself, said Mary. That's his wife."
"And a tow truck?"
"Can't come neither. Said there are 20 ahead of me. He don't think they'll make it this morning."
"You want to walk home if it's only at the curve. That's less 'n half a mile. We could loan you some boots."
"Nah. The wife she said I better stay here with my heart condition. Had a 'druple bypass last summer."
In the house, Tom asked, "What about that guy now?"
"Has to stay here because of his heart."
"We'll have to give him something to eat." Food is always Tom's top concern.
"At noon," I said, but I fixed him a bologna sandwich and coffee without delay.
The road, by the way, was closed with the high drifts. Our guest must have been the last one to travel on it.
Our two kids, Jeff, then 12 years old, and Kenny, 7, found the guy interesting.
"He has two dogs," reported Kenny. "And one's gonna have puppies. He said he'll give us one for keeping him here today."
"Oh, no! That's the last thing we need. Our two dogs are enough."
Kenny pouted.
By mid-afternoon, the aroma in the waiting room had become more intense. Seems this was the evening for the guy's monthly bath. He was also smoking a pipe.
"We'll have to get him out of here," I said to Tom. "He can't walk, and nobody's gonna pick him up."
"I can take him on my snowmobile!" Jeff's eyes were shining.
"Can't Dad do that?" I didn't want a little kid out in that weather.
"They'll be too heavy," said Kenny. Our snowmobile was a kiddie version of the real thing, lower, shorter, weaker, but it could hold two people if at least one of them was small.
Tom nodded. "If you don't want that guy to sleep here, you have to let Jeff take him home."
Jeff didn't wait for any objections and quickly got ready. Tom told our guest how we'd take him to his house.
He didn't seem in a hurry. "What if the kid gets stuck?"
"We won't," said Jeff. "Let's go."
Although the snowmobile bottomed out when our friend sat on it, Jeff got it moving with a loud roar and slow speed. But move they did.
Not too long afterwards Jeff came back.
"You got him there?"
"Yeah. When he didn't drag his feet on the ground, we moved OK." He pulled a dollar bill from his glove. "And he gave me this for the ride."
Tom put his hand on my shoulder. "That's country living, dear. We always wanted it. In Cleveland, nobody would slide into your ditch."
[ back ]
