When you say a Hail Mary...

Between my mom's fervent recital of the Memorare before I was ever born, and my present-day devotion to Our Lady, I really think she listens to every single prayer I say (See this blog from August).

Another case en pointe: on Monday it started to snow about an hour before we left for CAST. As our van is a piece of crap held together with bailing wire and a shoelace (and I use that term generously), I was really nervous about driving it in the snow. Especially on hills, especially on the one right by the Newman Center. There sits an intersection with no stop signs at the bottom on the hill, and there were two people in the backseat.

As we got to the end of the alley, I REALLY felt the need to pray, so Jon and Genny and I rattled off a few to Our Lady. By the time we hit the street at the end of the alley and the end of the second Hail Mary, we were sliding backward down Oak Street. Jon and Genny didn't seem too scared, but I didn't tell them that I was STANDING on the brakes while we were sliding backward.

We managed to stop on the hill while the traffic worked around us. We couldn't drive forward because the wheels kept spinning out.

But THEN I remembered a trick I learned on the road crew, which is to put on the emergency brake and drive on it (damn Mitch Hedburg for making me think twice about it!); that keeps the wheels from rolling backwards while you lunge forward. It's like the poor man's four-wheel drive.

So we made it back up, and then I called the lady who runs CAST. And it turned out that since the weather was so bad, they opened the cold weather shelters. And when the cold weather shelters are open, we don't serve on the street (if we're not giving out food outside, then people are much more likely to go inside for dinner, thus getting warm and probably being offered a bed).

So we were back in the alley and didn't have to drive anywhere. So we were safe.

I tell you, Our Lady's an attentive one. She hasn't forgotten me (or anyone else) yet.

Thank God and Mother Mary for large and small miracles

Breaking down in the dark at 6am on the freeway is not fun! Ask me how I know!

Actually, it could have been much worse (note the title of this blog).

I left the house a little late today, being that it was noisy until 4am around the bedroom door. No matter. Up at five (ish) and out the door at 6 (ish).

Funny thing: when I walked out the door, a little voice in my head told me not to take the car that I usually take to work. I ignored it. That was unwise.

I drove the mile between my house and the freeway on ramp without incident. It wasn't until I accelerated onto the freeway that I realized anything was wrong.

As I pressed the clutch to the floor of the car, the gear shift would not move into fourth gear. I tried pushing it back into third, but it still would not engage the engine. When I lifted my foot up to try and double clutch, the pedal remained pressed to the floor. The pedal had stopped working. So I was stuck in neutral, coasting along, unable to give the engine any gas.

Mind you, I was merging onto I-5.

Thankfully, the exit that I would take to get onto Highway 2 to go to the shop is less than a mile from the on ramp. So I didn't even try to change lanes- I didn't need to. But as I approached Highway 2, I realized that if I didn't get off of the road in about ten seconds, I was going to be stuck on a ramp that merges with a major highway. Unable to move. This did not sound appealing.

I puttered to the right as quickly as I could (in other words, not very quickly), scooting between some orange construction barrels onto the shoulder of the road. Because it was dark, because it was raining, and because I was paying more attention to getting out of the path of oncoming cars than I was to where I was going, I didn't realize that it was a construction zone. Between my house and the shop, it was absolutely the best place to have a breakdown (see title of blog). None of the equipment or workers were there yet.

I stopped and called my bosses to tell them I'd be late. Then I called my parents (I was only about a mile from home. See title of blog). Then I couldn't think of what to do. So I started muttering Hail Marys. I got through about ten; I'd have said more, except an incident response worker pulled up behind me right then (see title of blog). Apparently they peruse the zones before the construction workers get there.

My mom arrived a few minutes later and took me to work (I was only ten minutes late. And it didn't matter, because my truck was getting new tires and my crew couldn't leave yet, anyway. See title of blog.). My father and brother got there soon after. They called AAA. The car is OK; we think the clutch cable failed, so the transmission is fine. We just need a new cable (see title of blog).

As I said, it all could have been much worse. See title of blog.