Thursday evening, I was driving home along I-70 from a
meeting in Columbia and could see imposing clouds gathering ahead of me. Checking
the radar while stopped for gas, I realized that a massive cold front with a
squall line and heavy rain stood between me and home. It was inevitable that I
would run into the front, and I hoped only get as many miles behind me as
possible beforehand.
I drove alertly, with both hands on the wheel at 10:00 and
2:00, as I drew closer to the dark clouds ahead. Suddenly, my car was blown across both lanes
of the highway. I will never know how I missed the truck I had been passing, or
how I didn’t blow off the road. It was like hydroplaning, but sideways and
without water. My steering wheel didn’t budge, I was simply picked up and blown
across the road. In those harrowing
moments, I realized one of the ways my darling little fuel-efficient, plug-in
hybrid keeps its mpg so low (70.6 mpg for the first 5000 miles). It is a light car. Even when I was fully
prepared for the blast that was coming, my car was too light to withstand the
wind. I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I still love my little car, but it’s not
the vehicle for storms on a highway.
This morning, I was at Hopefest, a day of fun/music/food/social
services provided by five Blue Springs churches for families that live year-round
in the motels along I-70. I’ve been in those rooms more than once before, delivering
food or other necessities to families in need.
The rooms look just like any motel room anywhere else: 2 beds and a
television on a dresser, with a bathroom at the back. Perhaps a microwave oven. Families with children live there. Let me
repeat. Families with children live year-round in a motel room. School buses come by to pick up kids for
school each morning. After school, they return to a motel room, a pool that is
shuttered for the winter, and some weedy fields to play in by the side of the
highway. There is no privacy, and beds are shared. Food is whatever the parents
can afford that can be cooked in a microwave. There is no ability to make the
food budget go farther with scratch cooking, nor can one make healthy food
choices that would involve a cooktop or regular oven. Don’t get me wrong-
families that are fleeing bad situations are thankful for a place to stay. However,
a motel room is no place to raise a family over the long term.
As I’ve stood in various overcrowded motel rooms with my too-few gifts,
I’ve heard stories of leaving in the middle of the night to escape physical violence. Some people need to get away from an
environment that threatens them or their children with drugs or gangs. Others
have lost jobs. In general, the folks are doing the best that they can, but
they have few options. The rest of us
have the privilege of taking for granted that we live in a safe place, are in
relationships with caring and gentle people, and have family and friends that
would take us in if we knocked at the door.
For folks that have none of those things, there is no safety
and no safety net. Even when they try as best as they can, sometimes they end
up blown across the road by circumstances. Today, for awhile, those families that
have gotten blown across to our piece of the highway were able to enjoy a lovely
fall day with people who care.
