A few years ago, as Christmas-time approached, I told my brother that I would like nothing more than to travel for Christmas. The rest of our family planned to meet at my sister’s house in Western New York. My brother and I live in the Southern Tier part of New York State.
Due to low funds, my brother and I decided to take a short trip to Cleveland, Ohio. We planned to attend the Old Stone Church for Christmas Eve service. I never could find a site which indicated this church held a Christmas Eve service. But I told my brother that a church so famous would surely hold such a program. As for other “tourist” events, I assured him we would find something to do.
We took off for Cleveland on Christmas Eve. Much to our dismay, the Old Stone Church was closed. It was beautiful to look at from the outside! We weren’t sure what to do with the rest of our day. We wandered somewhat aimlessly around Cleveland which was mostly shut down for the holiday. We took a few pictures, conversed with several strangers, hoping to stumble across something exciting.
Christmas morning, we headed for Western New York to join the rest of our family. Cars spotted the roads. Apparently, few people travel Christmas morning. Although my brother protested, I chose to drive. The highway was covered in a thin, white film. For several minutes, I crawled behind a semi-truck doing 10 below the speed limit. I looked around and decided the roads could not possibly be that slick. I wanted to pass. My brother argued, but I controlled the vehicle.
I veered toward the dotted line. My front left tire crossed that line and the car began to spin. I clutched the steering wheel and squealed as my car whirled out of control. A few wild donuts thrust our car into the ditch next to the highway.
My brother flipped out and reminded me that he could have been driving and that he had warned me not to pass that semi-truck, which was now long gone. I put the car back in gear and aimed toward the road.
The back tires spun in place. I tried again. Nothing. All of the sudden, I realized we were stuck. We were stuck three hours from our destination, without a cell phone, in the freezing cold, on Christmas Day. The roads were practically bare. What could we possibly do?
Ultimately, other drivers did pass by. Many stopped to offer the usage of their cell phones, feeling especially generous on Christmas Day. We called our family. We called AAA. Then we waited in the car for a few more hours. Dumb does not even begin to describe how I felt about trying to pass that truck. The tow truck driver arrived and I apologized all over myself for taking him away from his family on Christmas Day. My brother and I made a mental note: Do not travel the day of Christmas – and if you do, never pass a semi.