I remember it like it was yesterday. Early January in 1980,
in northern Indiana, I was on my way to a sales call at Upjohn in Kalamazoo. As
I left Warsaw and headed north on Rt. 15, it began to snow. The snow fell in
large flakes and was soon limiting visibly and began piling up on the road.
As I approached Goshen I noticed an older couple walking
south, and I thought they must live nearby and were walking home. I entered the
town but traffic was stopped and I could see a roadblock up ahead. Since the
snow was worsening I figured it would be best to turn around and head home.
Now driving south I saw that same couple still hiking along
covered with snow, and no houses nearby. I assumed they would appreciate a lift
so I pulled over to ask. They gratefully got into my back seat and told me they
were heading to Bremen to visit a friend. This surprised me because it was
twenty miles away. And they were going to walk that far in the snow?
I had brought some snacks with me and offered them to these
folks after asking if they were hungry. Again they were very appreciative of my
kindness. As I turned west on Rt. 6 and drove a few miles the wife suddenly
said, “Oh, I forgot our friend is on vacation and he won’t be home. Where can we
stay? Maybe we can come home with you?”
Hmm. This didn’t sound good to me. With near blizzard
conditions I wasn’t sure if I could make it back home. I suggested that their
safety was important so it would be better if I took them someplace like the
Salvation Army. “No,” she said, “We stayed there last night and the beds
weren’t very comfortable.” What was I to do now?
I mentioned that perhaps a church could help them as I
noticed a sign for a church down a side street. I drove along, barely able to
see the front of my car by now, and lo and behold, a man was out in the
blizzard trying out his new snow blower he got for Christmas. I asked him if
the church was close and he said it was a few houses down at the end of the
street, and that the parsonage was right next door.
So I pulled into the minister’s driveway and went to the
door. His wife answered and I explained my predicament. She assured me that her
husband would know how to help my charges and that in fact, he had to go to
South Bend and he could take them to the Mission there. I got back and the car
and shared this good news. But they weren’t happy. “We don’t know him, but we
know you and we like you and we want to stay with you.”
I saw the pastor walking home so I told him my situation. He
said that he had to deal with people like this before and the best thing to do
was tell them if they didn’t get out of the car I’d take them to the police
station and they could stay there. I issued the threat, and after a few minutes
they very reluctantly climbed out of the car, and as she was leaving I heard
the wife say to her husband, “We’re going back to the Mormons. They treat us
better than this!”
Thank God I made it home safely, and I trust that the dear,
sweet pastor was able to get them out of his car too.
COPYRIGHT 2020 BY CARL E GUSTAFSON
