A Stranger Experiences the Kindness of Texans
From a Traces Of Texas reader:
"I grew up on Long Island, New York. and joined the Navy in 1989. In 1996, I was stationed in California, and had received orders to Sigonella, Sicily. I had a 1971 Torino Cobra that I wanted to drive to North Carolina (where my Mom was living) to put in storage while I was away. For reasons that are unknown to me, while I was growing up it was always told to me that I never wanted to stop in Texas. If you had to go through Texas, you wanted to do it in one day and don't get a place to sleep until you hit Oklahoma. Don't even stop for gas if you don't have to. Today I know that this fear of Texas was unfounded, but back then it made complete sense.
So there I was driving across Texas on my way to NC, when wouldn't you know it, My right rear axle broke. My tire and rim, with the brake drum attached, passed me in front of my car. Well this was not good. I was in the middle of nowhere, broke down on the side of Interstate 40.
Just then some people in a truck drove out of a field and asked if I needed help. I replied that I did and they said they would get help for me. About a half hour later a flatbed showed up and the driver took my car to the nearest town; Shamrock, TX.
I was a little apprehensive, and the fact that I had a trunk full of guns made it even worse. But, I left the car with the shop owner and walked down the road to a diner to get something to eat. When I got back, he said he had found an axle in someone's backyard and was going to pull it off the car and put it on mine. With that, he sent his employee out to retrieve the axle. When he came back they installed the axle and gave me the bill, which was very reasonable, considering the effort that went into getting the part, let alone installing it. I was back on the road the same day.
Since then, I have had nothing but respect for that man. He could have charged me any amount of money he wanted, but instead he treated me with fairness. I no longer have any unreasonable fear of going to Texas. Someday I may even go back to Shamrock to see if that shop is still there and to eat at that diner."
----- Traces of Texas reader Ken Wernau's story of something that happened to him in 1996 when he was driving through Texas.
Beauty is only skin deep but Texas is to the bone.