Jen Jeffrey
The last thing a woman wants is to be stranded along the highway with a flat tire (especially when you aren’t sure if the tire on the back of your Jeep is just for decoration or if you can really use it).
I have never been one of those women who knew too much about motor vehicles. A truck is just a truck and what defines it is the color. End of story. A car is just a car… green, blue, red… and a motorcycle is just a motorcycle…loud.
When I went to an interview on Elder Mountain, the wife of the person I had interviewed told me as I was leaving, “Of course, you will want to put it in second gear when you go down the mountain…” Of course… who wouldn’t know that? Me. I admired my new friend who knew what the other gears in a car were for. I did as she instructed… and I don’t know why. In order for me to learn or retain something, I need to know why or it leaves my brain after a while. I surely wasn’t going to ask her “why” when she began her sentence with ‘of course…’ because that meant, I should have known.
A few months ago before I had Brian in my life to call when I panic, my right back tire kept getting low. I thought I was pretty macho for using Mama’s portable air pump and knowing how to fill my tire with air until I could one day get it fixed. Well, we all know what happens when we wait until then – we are forced to do something about it because ‘when we could’ never comes.
My tire had all it could take and had blown out on I-24 passing East Ridge. I felt it wobbling off of the wheel and I immediately pulled over. I could see my automobile insurance company from the interstate as I called for help. I expected roadside assistance and a sympathetic ear. Of course, I didn’t know anything more than the fact that I had full coverage (so that whatever may happen - somebody will help me).
When I pay good money for more than the minimum that is offered, I expect no problems, surprises or being gypped - I expect the best service. The person handling the call gave me a sympathetic ear… she could hear the tears in my voice as I held them back from falling on my cheeks and trying to be a big girl. Then she told me that I would be reimbursed $50 for towing when she sent someone to help me. That may sound good to some, but to me – I didn’t have much more that $50 to spend and I would have to get a tire and someone to put it on, so I just saw a million, teeny dollar signs attaching themselves to my tears.
I told the woman that I didn’t have it. She said not to worry, that they would work it out and that she just wanted to get me off the road. She had me hold on while she talked with a wrecker company and set it up for them to come rescue me. That sounded encouraging and caring. Then she told me before hanging up, “If a big, ugly, yella truck comes along, just tell them that we have already taken care of you.”
Sure enough, I saw a big, yellow truck pull up behind me. What did he want? How did he know where I was? I felt paranoid, just as I do when a window pops up on my computer unexpectedly and I think everything is a virus trying to get me to click on it! What did the man in the big, yella truck want from me? What was he going to try to sell me?
As the man approached my Jeep, I let my window down, ready to tell him that ‘I was already taken care of’. He asked if I needed help, and I explained that my insurance company had already called a wrecker and they were on their way. He told me that he was here to help me, and instead of waiting on a wrecker or paying the money for it, he would have me up and running in a few minutes.
What’s the catch?
“You mean… you do this for free and you won’t charge me?” I looked out of the back of my Jeep at the big, yella truck and noticed that it said ‘Highway Incidence Respond Unit’. I felt that this must be a service somehow offered and that they were ‘the good guys’. I pointed to my insurance company 100 feet away and told the man, “They told me that if I saw a big, ugly, yellow truck pull up, that I should tell you I was taken care of and to go on… why would they do that if I told them I didn’t have the money when you guys are free?” Butch Hall had no answer. He simply shook his head in disappointment (but he was, however, a little offended when I quoted the woman calling his truck of mercy ‘ugly’).
Butch wore a bright yellow vest to match his truck. Most people might consider ‘yella’ an ugly color, but that day – it was the most beautiful color I had ever seen! I got out of my Jeep, realizing that Butch was not trying to interfere, but to help. I watched him put his gloves on and work on my tire as sweat dripped from his brow. I wanted to give him a cold glass of ice water, but I was stranded and had nothing to give. I was dependent on his help alone.
Hey! I could write about him! I told him where I worked and that I feature people in a story for our local online news. I explained that it was just a light-hearted mini-bio of a person’s life who lived in Chattanooga. Like most people, Butch didn’t think ‘he’ was much of a story – but I assured him that I find a story in everyone, all he had to do what chat with me. Humbly, Butch declined, but I don’t think it was only about feeling as if he didn’t have anything interesting for me to write about. I think Butch’s reason was that he wanted to show me that there are good people in this world who will offer help without needing anything in return.
He saw the expression on my face when I told him that I couldn’t understand why my own insurance company would hear my panic (and knowing I didn’t have the money to spend) would still tell me to decline any help from the Tennessee Department of Transportation.
I had no idea of this free service. Butch gave me a pamphlet that listed what ‘HELP For Highway Incidents’ was all about, so that I would know in the future if I was stranded again. They give assistance to provide fuel, coolant or other fluids. They offer courtesy use of a cellular phone, change flat tires, jumpstart weak batteries, provide road and travel information and will sometimes give transportation to the nearest point of travel. In other words… angels of mercy.
Butch not only put my spare tire on for me, but he showed me that it had low tread (which is why I thought it was just for decoration) and advised me to replace it and he also gave me a reference. He was so helpful in making a damsel in distress feel at ease and not fall apart. But he was also very respectful, clean-cut, non-threatening and I trusted and appreciated his help. That is very needed for women who can’t take care of a flat tire themselves and who feel alone or scared.
Just to know that somebody was trustworthy and cared – not wanting to make a profit at my expense and actually wanting to help me; made my day, my week and my year! This service is for everyone, but I want to stress that as a woman who didn’t know the first thing to do and feels vulnerable and scared while stranded on the side of the road with cars whizzing by - this service is much needed!
Butch Hall may be too nice of a guy to want kudos or to want be featured in one of my profiles on people, but I had to at least mention his kindness and the help that TDOT offers, in my personal column. I was moved by my angel of mercy … even if he did have yella wings.
jen@jenjeffrey.com