Several years ago Deb and I decided we wanted to purchase a vintage camper. We wanted one to fix up, but not one that we had to completely gut and rebuild. The first problem we ran into was finding one close to home. Enter Johnnie Castle. Johnnie was a good friend of mine who loved to take driving trips. He told me that regardless of where I found one, we would take his pickup truck and go get it.
We found the perfect one regarding condition and price, located in Berthoud, Colorado, just north of Denver. Johnnie couldn’t have been happier. A 3,800-mile round trip was right up his alley. We planned to leave Sunday afternoon, drive to Colorado, pick up the camper and then head to Omaha, Nebraska to see my daughter and her family. The pit stop in Omaha was only about a 70-mile diversion.
So off we went making it to Chattanooga, Tennessee by 10:00 P.M. As we were in North Georgia, approaching Chattanooga, Johnnie was telling me about being a hemophiliac. After his long story about his experience with this condition, I then told him about my condition of having a backward stomach and intestines. I asked Johnnie if he wore a dog tag saying that he’s a hemophiliac. He said he was told that he should, but he never wore one. Same for me. I told him my doctor said I should wear one to inform about my stomach so that in case of emergency surgery they would not cut into the wrong place. I too had never worn one. I said to Johnnie, “I’ll make you a deal. If we get in a wreck, I tell them you're a hemophiliac and you tell them that my stomach is backward.” He laughed and said it was a deal.
We quickly passed through Chattanooga and began heading up the mountain on I-24 toward Nashville. As we climbed the dark mountain there were no taillights in sight in front of us, and no headlights coming behind us. It was just us on the open road. And then out of nowhere - BOOM! Something slammed into the left side of our vehicle with an extremely powerful force. It was all Johnnie could do to keep us heading forward and to prevent the car from hitting the guardrail along the right side of the road. When Johnnie was finally able to bring the truck to stop, we jumped out and with the adrenaline pumping looked at each and asked, “What in the world was that?!!?” Johnnie said he thought the blow was too hard for a deer, or even a cow. It felt to me like a herd of buffalo had all hit us at once.
We had two flashlights. As we examined the truck, we couldn’t believe the damage. The truck was caved in on the driver’s side from the front bumper to the tailgate. Johnnie grabbed his phone to call in the accident. I took the other flashlight and began walking down the hill along the interstate to see if I could see anything. I thought maybe a log or something would be laying along the highway. As I walked, a few semi-trucks and cars passed by me. After one semi passed, I thought I heard a voice. I stopped and listened. I heard a man yelling, “Over here! Over here!” The voice was coming from the other side of the highway. I crossed over the northbound lanes to the grassy area between. The area was wider than what is usually between the highways on an interstate. There was a steep incline to the bottom before rising toward the southbound lanes.
As I shined my light, I saw a man waving his arms and then I saw the car. He then shouted a very good report up to me, “We’re ok. Sorry, we hit you. We have insurance.”
So, according to the couple who were in the car, she was driving. As she was about to overtake us on the wide curve, her car completely stopped running. This explained why Johnnie did not see any lights coming behind him. Of course, when the car stopped running, the power steering failed. This failure caused her to lose control and slam into the side of Johnnie’s truck.
After the State Trooper finished writing his report and we had the insurance information, Johnnie determined that the truck was drivable. So we were back on the road and pointed toward Colorado. As we drove along, Johnnie said, “I believe God put us there at that exact moment to save that couple from crashing off the right side of the highway.” It was a long way down on the right side. I was encouraged to hear his positive attitude. After all, it was his truck that was all banged up. We were thanking the Lord nobody was hurt and that the truck was still drivable.
We drove on through the night until making a pit stop just north of Mt. Vernon, Illinois. When we got back in the truck, it didn’t want to back up. It seemed like something was blocking the front tire. I got out to look and discovered the front wheels were turned in opposite directions. That’s never a good thing.
We had to have the truck towed to a garage (which was right across the road) and then wait for the repair. The ball joint was knocked loose, along with some other things messed up in the wheel from the crash.
Was God watching over us or what? We had been driving 75 mph all night. That ball joint could have fallen out at any moment! Johnnie and I were praising the Lord again!
After waiting several hours, we were back on the road and still pointed toward Colorado. We drove until we crossed the Kansas State line into Colorado. Then we decided to stop for the night because we were worn out and we would arrive in Berthoud too late. We got up early the next morning, drove to Berthoud, and I paid the seller. We now had the 1963 Shasta hooked on and we were headed for Omaha.
It’s only about an 8-hour jaunt over to Omaha from Berthoud. Everything was going smoothly until it wasn’t. Somewhere between Lincoln and Omaha, Johnnie noticed something didn’t seem right with that same front wheel that had been repaired in Illinois. We got out and looked, but couldn’t see a problem. However, as we were just getting to the outskirts of Omaha it began to smell like something was burning. Johnny pulled over. We got out and could see the front wheel was glowing red hot.
It was time to praise the Lord again. We were only 5 minutes from my daughter’s house and I knew my son-in-law had a trailer hitch on his car. The tow truck arrived to pick up Johnnie’s truck and my son-in-law had the Shasta in tow.
We were very thankful for the great accommodations at my daughter’s home. And although the Chevy dealership took a few days to repair the problem, we discovered they serve warm chocolate chip cookies to all their customers. My grandchildren especially loved that place and talked about it often.
Thankfully, the remainder of the trip was uneventful. The whole experience reminded me that there’s always a bright side if we look for it.
Yes Deb and I still have the Shasta, but we don’t have Johnnie. I miss him a lot. However, whenever I think of him, I am reminded of our trip to Colorado and all the reasons I have to praise God every day.
