So last night on the way home from Tyce's last baseball game we encountered a semi-truck stopped in front of a low overpass on Fullerton Avenue. The driver couldn't go forward because of the bridge and going back would mean moving blind into a lot of angry Chicago traffic. This is what is referred to as truck driver He__. (This is a family blog--insert your own double hockey sticks.)
Now I need to tell you that seeing a truck driver in distress always makes me think of my own father who has driven a truck for Steelcase for 20+ years. I'm proud to have a father who works hard for a living and who brings honor to a profession that is often defined by its worst elements. So when I have a chance to serve a truck driver, I feel like I'm serving my dad.
I asked my wife, "should I go help this guy?"
"Fine with me, hon." So I whipped the car around (totally legal U turn), parked across two lanes of traffic with my hazards on and jumped out of the van into the middle of a typically bottlenecked intersection ready for action. (I feel like me and Clark Kent understand each other better after stepping out of my own Chrysler "phone booth";-)
I started waving her to back up (should have known it was a woman driving--a man, as I've seen several times before at this bridge, would have gotten the truck stuck under the bridge and peeled half of his trailer off before stopping). She made progress backwards and when she got close enough we took about 10 seconds to formulate our plan--complete a full circle U-Turn with a semi while 100's of angry Chicago drivers honk and try to run us over.
The next 7 minutes were marked by me waving, yelling, pointing, shouting, waving, avoiding cars and pointing and gesturing and directing. I was totally in the ZONE. "You--go--no, there--over there, move--let's go--she's gonna come through right here--back up--yeah, you!" Sort of a dream come true to direct traffic in Chicago like a Chicago traffic cop.
Once the driver yelled a "thank you" and rolled on out of there I jumped back in the car and surveyed the huge backup I'd helped create in multiple different directions. I imagine I had the same feeling at that moment that a painter or sculptor has when they've finished something like the Mona Lisa or the David. You know, that deep sense of "I did that."
My family was actually cheering for me when I got back in the van. "Wow, dad, Andy [my cop friend] would be proud of you! It was like you were a real policeman."
So I now have another job to add to my if-this-pastor-thing-doesn't-work-out list. The satisfying job of Chicago traffic cop. (I sure would like to get one of those whistles.) All in the name of loving my dad.
Too bad your your wife didn't videotape it. You could've been a hit on YouTube!
Posted by: Mo | July 29, 2007 at 02:10 PM
Pastor,
Your father will be very proud of you when you tell him. No doubt! Michael Atto 8/10/07
Posted by: Michael Atto | August 10, 2007 at 06:48 PM