I coaching sessions in Jasper this afternoon. It's about 15 miles away and I've driven it so much, I don't even think of distance.
The sessions went good and the folks in my program are progressing along. On the way home I decided to stop by the small grocery store and bait shop near the forks of the river to buy some boiled peanuts. They have them in a crockpot on the shelf of their ice cream freezer. Space is at a premium in small country grocery stores.
The hot peanuts were still steaming in the cup when I cranked the engine to head home. But instead of pulling onto the highway, I decided to drive down to the boat launch to see if anyone was catching fish.
There was only one truck there, and a young man walking up the ramp from the riverbank. Since I didn't see anyone I knew, I did a slow turn to head out, but I noticed out of the corner of my eye that the guy was trying flag me down.
I didn't know him and I was a little leery, but I breaked, rolled the window down part way leaving the
truck in gear in case the guy was a thug and I need to make a fast getaway.
He said, "Do you have a pair of wire cutters?" Then he held his hand up to show why he needed them. He had the hooks of his fishing lure jabbed through one of his fingers. He'd caught a fish and was about to take it off his lure when the fish thrashed violently as they sometimes do. This was enough to put the hook through his finger.
"Holy Sh**!!!" popped out of my mouth involuntarily. I threw the truck in gear, got out, flipped my seat down and got my toolbox. Rummaging through, I found my trusty side-cutters (as they are called by telephone technicians.) I handed them to him.
He held his hand over the bed of my truck and clipped the barbed end of the hook off and pulled it free.
He said, "I can't tell you how grateful I am that you drove through and helped me." I told him I was glad I could help.
As I drove out of the parking area, I realized that it was a fluke that I stopped there today. Maybe the Universe knew the guy needed a hand...or more specifically, a pair of wire cutters.
The sessions went good and the folks in my program are progressing along. On the way home I decided to stop by the small grocery store and bait shop near the forks of the river to buy some boiled peanuts. They have them in a crockpot on the shelf of their ice cream freezer. Space is at a premium in small country grocery stores.
The hot peanuts were still steaming in the cup when I cranked the engine to head home. But instead of pulling onto the highway, I decided to drive down to the boat launch to see if anyone was catching fish.
There was only one truck there, and a young man walking up the ramp from the riverbank. Since I didn't see anyone I knew, I did a slow turn to head out, but I noticed out of the corner of my eye that the guy was trying flag me down.
I didn't know him and I was a little leery, but I breaked, rolled the window down part way leaving the
He said, "Do you have a pair of wire cutters?" Then he held his hand up to show why he needed them. He had the hooks of his fishing lure jabbed through one of his fingers. He'd caught a fish and was about to take it off his lure when the fish thrashed violently as they sometimes do. This was enough to put the hook through his finger.
"Holy Sh**!!!" popped out of my mouth involuntarily. I threw the truck in gear, got out, flipped my seat down and got my toolbox. Rummaging through, I found my trusty side-cutters (as they are called by telephone technicians.) I handed them to him.
He held his hand over the bed of my truck and clipped the barbed end of the hook off and pulled it free.
He said, "I can't tell you how grateful I am that you drove through and helped me." I told him I was glad I could help.
As I drove out of the parking area, I realized that it was a fluke that I stopped there today. Maybe the Universe knew the guy needed a hand...or more specifically, a pair of wire cutters.
Sometimes it DOES seem like we are sent places!!
ReplyDeleteWho knew fishing could be so dangerous...good you had your tool box.
ReplyDeleteWhen I visited my brother in Atlanta a few years back I wanted to know what the hell were Bald Peanut I kept hearing about.
Ouch. I am so glad you could help. Serendipity at its best. My mother got a similar injury, going through the pockets of my father's fishing shorts. He was not popular.
ReplyDeleteGood timing for him and a good deed for you! The interesting part is the fear that grips us in this day and age...you just can't be too careful when meeting a stranger. He was lucky it was you with the right tool! Jack loves boiled peanuts! His Mom was a Southern Lady and she loved them too. Sure do miss her. Have a good Friday!
ReplyDeleteIt must be a good feeling coming to someone's aid.
ReplyDeleteGreat story. There is no doubt you were sent that way for a reason. God works in mysterious ways.
ReplyDeleteLisa
OUCH!
ReplyDeleteYeah I don't doubt there are co-incidences, but mostly I don't believe in them. LOL I am glad you could help the dude. Yeah, I have done it but I always had a pair of long-nose with the side cutters in my tackle box, thank goodness. You done good!
ReplyDeleteYou were in the right place for that fellow. So glad you carry a tool box. I wouldn't have been able to help at all. My wire cutters are kept in my craft box at home.
ReplyDeleteI've never eaten boiled peanuts, but I know they say these are lower in calories and fat than the raw and roasted ones, and even help with weightloss. Well, it may be so, but I personally don't buy it. I'm on a diet now and I have no intention of eating any kind of nuts (which are a favorite snack of many, including myself).
ReplyDeleteNothing is by coincidence! You were at the right place at the right time!
ReplyDeleteI am glad you were there to help him Rick... I agree it is scary to stop and help someone at times, you are never sure if they will mean harm... I am happy this was a good experience xox
ReplyDelete