Jim and Ieda

[Falstaff]

this evening, as I drove onto an A road past the wool mill in Mildenhall and into Worlington I slowed to reach over and crank my passenger side window and saw to my dismay an elderly man on his hands and knees fighting with a bottle jack under a rather anchient Mercedes Wagon. I paused and continued down the road for at least a mile before I just had to turn back and assess the situation for myself. I approached the old Merc and not one but two elderly people. A short plump woman with a shock of hair knotted above her haed stood with her mouth open and a hand raised over her silent face, her face expressed dispair.
I stopped and asked to help, not knowing what the issue was. There on the ground lay a man, exhausted by all account, with a huge metal jack handle and a very old bottle jack as big as a tree stump. He rolled up and stood, thrust his hand out into mine and introduced he and his wife. He was obliged if I had a proper jack, and I am afraid I didnt but instantly knew by the huge puddle of brake fluid under his left rear tire and the mangled tire carcass that they were in trouble. The rim was in poor shape, and I inquired if there was anything I could do.
Night had fallen fast, and I didnt have a torch, but offered to round up some boards from an old Parmalot building and ripped them from the shattered frames of the windows, collecting enough for something useful.
Jim and Ieda were exhausted I suppose, I cribbed a few boards under the broken tire and rim and had Jim postion the jack while I lifted the car up on one side with the huge passenger door.
It was enough, and Jim began cranking the handle slowly while the audible click and click of the gear lifted the piston under the Mercedes slowly. I spelled Jim for a bit and he sat and captured his breath, attempting a whispered apology, sweat pouring down his face.
I told Ieda to get the paper towels out of my LUPO and she promptly began wiping Jims face and bracing him against her leg as he sat.
Jim puffed out his name again, and explained what had happened on the way home from Duxford late that evening.
I found the spare in the back, bald and rounded and pushed it gently onto the drum of his car, the bolts of odd sizes and spinning loosely back on as I turned them with my greasy fingers.
It was a pitiful sight, even in the fading light, Jim and Ieda leaning against each other as she continued to wipe his glasses and his hands. My labor was quick and light, moving swiftly to remove the great jack from under the car and each board individually cribbed under the old car.
Ieda approached me as I heard her soft steps in the white gravel by the road and she stood for a moment before speaking.
"Thankyou", she said, "we have been here for at least two hours and no one but you stopped, Jim and I couldnt do it by ourselves and we are at least two miles from home. I thought for a moment, it would have been a long walk for both of them regardless. "always happy to help you know" I blurted out with half a smile. "My mother raised me to help others when I can", and I nearly swooned at the statement. I thought for a moment and before Ieda could reply again I told her it was Mothers Day in America today and I had to get home and call her when I was done. "Well your mother must be very proud of you" she said, handing me my papertowels back. I nodded yes to her remark and asked Jim if he could make it home now, what with the leaking brake fluid.
"I think its sorted" he said with half a breath and sank into the drivers seat immediately. Ieda smiled for a moment and silently mouthed another thankyou and shut his door.
I stood there with filthy hands as they pulled away and stared at the enormous puddle of leaking brake fluid and wondered if I should follow them.
They arent helpless I thought, and said a small prayer for their safe journey home and left rather quickly in the little red LUPO. Somehow I felt redeemed for a moment, doing precisely what my mother would have expected of me I thought to myself and I think I wore a smile all the way home.
I think the one thing I learned from my mother most of all, is even when you can go about your business, and ignore most everything around you, it is good to stop and offer help once in a while, get your hands dirty and help others on their journey to get back home.

[mkk]

When I was little my family had a row of cars that each were at the end of their lifetime, so I learned a bit about car troubles. It doesn't cost much to be an angel to a stranded driver, or at least ask what's up.

[niceguyrichy]

hell of a long winded way to say 'helped old folks change a wheel today'

good for you Jeff, there's just not enough of that kind of spirit in the world these days.
I was watching one of those police camera shows a while back, and somebody was lying collapsed and injured in the middle of the road at night, and for almost an hour every car that went by (and there were a lot of them) slowed to carefully drive around. not one person stopped to see what was the matter
you wonder what ther world's come to..

[SFOSOK]

Originally Posted by niceguyrichy

hell of a long winded way to say 'helped old folks change a wheel today'

Thanks for summing it up, now if you can only do that for all of his posts that way I don't have to spend two days reading it.

[Falstaff]

Originally Posted by SFOSOK

Thanks for summing it up, now if you can only do that for all of his posts that way I don't have to spend two days reading it.

oh stop....

I whittled that story down a bit. I like writing shorts, and I pecked this one out rather quickly without any editing I suppose, but they were a lovely couple you know. (and I did call my mother)