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Running into eight angels
I met at least eight angels Nov. 23 as I journeyed from Oak Harbor to Coupeville and back. I am deeply grateful this Thanksgiving for each and every one of them.
My little dog Billy was in great need of antibiotics, so I set out from my Oak Harbor home on the icy roads to my Coupeville vet to pick up a prescription. Time was short as the vet was closing early and I forgot to check my sometimes-leaky radiator. At a snail’s pace, I made it to the vet in time, but my van overheated. I picked up the precious medicine for Billy and was glad I had some antifreeze to add the radiator but my engine would not turn over without a jump. I set out for help when suddenly I found myself opening my eyes to the cloudy sky above, unable to move. Staring at those clouds I wondered for a moment if I’d died and was in heaven when a fierce throbbing began at the back of my head. I sat up on the cold, wet ground and a loud wail erupted from my throat. I felt with my hand a baseball-sized lump on back of my head, but had no memory of slipping on the ice.
Out from nearby offices came three female “angels” who got me on my feet, looked at my head, rushed me some blue ice and gloves to wear as I held it to my head. I said through sobs I needed a jump and they dug around my van, finding my cables. A man joined them, got me jump-started and I thanked them through my tears. Driving north, one hand on the ice pack, the other on the wheel, 30 mph, a slight concussion creeping up, I hoped to make it home by dark. But at Ault Field and Goldie my engine died just yards from the Navy base, overheated again.
I opened up my hood, still holding ice and crying, too confused to know what to do, when three Navy fliers came out of nowhere. Dazedly I told them I needed water for the van and a jump. One flier took my wheel as I was quickly towed by another’s truck to a lot where the third fellow had run for a big bucket of water for my radiator. The truck that towed me was turned around to give me a jump. Again I was on my way, thanking them all as I left, still teary but my heart full. I made it to a gas station to pick up more antifreeze, unsure if I had any left in the radiator, but they couldn’t take a check. I had $5; the antifreeze was $10.99. The woman at the counter whipped out her bag and paid the balance and sent me off. I thanked her through my tears and made it slowly home, the iced lump on my head half its original size by then.
I wish I knew the names of all the people who came to my aid, but they know who they are. To me, they were all God’s angels and I am incredibly grateful to them. Thank you all, dear angels! I wish every one of you a joyful, love-filled holiday season and a wonderful life!
Terry Ann Gallagher