Learning on the shoulder of the Parkway
What I experienced last night pales in comparison to what it revealed. That’s probably the best way to summarize what’s going through my mind after spending more than four hours on the side of the chaotic parkway at rush hour.
My evening began with a simple decision, left vs right. My company’s office is in Monroeville, south east of Pittsburgh. I live northwest of the city. Thankfully, I don’t have to be there more than once, sometimes twice, a week. When I leave the office, I can go one of two ways to get home. If I turn left, it’s the parkway, and the Squirrel Hill Tunnel I have to traverse (locals know the madness which often ensues on both sides of this particular tunnel), but it’s the most direct route. If I turn right, it’s up the many miles of turnpike with its requisite tolls, but at least traffic never stops moving.
Based on the title and the intro above, you obviously know I chose to go left. It was pretty early, I thought, surely traffic down the parkway won’t be so bad. I didn’t account for the probability of a car exploding and burning just before the tunnel creating a multi-lane parking lot for as far as the eye can see. I was stuck. For more than an hour I sat in the same spot surrounded by thousands of folks helplessly in the same circumstance. To save fuel, I shut down the engine, leaned my seat back, and played some games on my phone while listening to the radio for traffic updates. As I soon discovered, that was my second mistake of the evening.
Little did I know, I had a weak battery on its last legs under the hood. By merely listening to the radio without the engine running for the duration of the traffic jam, I drained what little was left from its cells. As soon as I noticed some movement ahead of me, I sat up and cranked the ignition, only to be greeted by the dreaded “click, click, click.” The battery was dead and now I was the one blocking the endless sea of drivers behind me.
Thankfully, I was on a bit of a slope in the road and was able to coast the car to the shoulder. I immediately called my roadside assistance company. They gave me a 3-4 hour window for service. Yikes!
As traffic picked up on the parkway, I realized the cars driving 80-90MPH around the bend could barely see me before they were right up on me. I figured the best thing to do was to call the police to request assistance (even a couple flares to make my presence known). I called 911 and was assured an officer would be en route…eventually.
An hour passed. No road side assistance, yet. No police, either. I called 911 again and was told there was no need to keep calling. “They were coming.”
Two hours passed. A third hour came and went. No one. Not a tow truck. Not a police car. Nothing. Just me and my helpless little VW hoping and praying every driver approaching wasn’t looking at their phone or feeling a bit drowsy. More than a few desperately needed every ounce of their reflexes to swerve out of the shoulder and back onto the highway as the zipped by.
I’ll confess my anxiety was at an all time high. I was stressed. I was worried. I was angry; angry it was taking hours for any professional assistance but even angrier that the state police ghosted me! I repeatedly had to tell Erin, my wife, I was fine and not to come. I didn’t need her and the kids stuck on the side of the parkway with me. It simply wasn’t safe. I repeatedly declined offers of help from others, too. I didn’t want to put anyone else out and, if I’m honest, I desperately hate not being able to fix a problem myself. Thankfully, my sister, Sarah and my brother in law, Lee, could see right through my self reliant facade. They jumped in their truck and headed my way knowing there was a very real possibility the tow truck would arrive before they did. They didn’t care. They at least wanted me to have the reassurance knowing someone would be arriving sooner than later. It worked. My defensive and anxious spirit immediately relaxed when I heard they were on the road.
Ultimately, road side assistance did arrive. He actually beat Sarah and Lee by about 10 minutes. He jumped my battery and recommended I get it looked at. I called my private rescuers and had them turn around after expressing my sincere appreciation for their efforts. I went straight to Auto Zone and Nathan, a young employee and all around great guy, got me hooked up with a much needed fresh battery before I finally drove my trusty VW up my driveway.
It was quite a night to say the least, but I’m home. The car and I survived the ordeal without as much as a scratch, but God was even more faithful than that. I was anxious. I was also angry. All I could think about was the fact I was there for hours before help arrived, but the reality is that was entirely my fault.
The biggest issue I faced tonight wasn’t a dead battery, or even my anxiety and anger. My biggest mistake wasn’t turning left when I should’ve turned right or even playing the radio while the engine wasn’t running. The biggest issue, my biggest mistake, was my unwillingness to accept the many offers of help I received. God opened my eyes to the fact that despite how much I preach and teach leaning on God and others in times of need, I am still far too dependent on my own self reliance. I’m terrible at accepting help when it’s obviously needed. I’m the worst at permitting others the opportunity assist me.
As strange as it might sound, there’s part of me that’s grateful for what I experienced last night. Even at 40 years old, I still have some work to do on myself. I appreciate all the kind words and prayers offered for me once word got out that I was stuck. I’m fine, physically and otherwise. I’m still a work in progress and grateful for my God and my friends who love me in spite of myself.
