SCARY MOMENT: Spring Break Trip

In honor of THE HUNTED and Tina's challenge here's one of my scary moments... however, this is more of a scary moment turned spiritual enlightenment.

It was 1985, my junior year in high school when my sister, Jamie asked me to go to Florida with her for Spring Break. This was a huge honor for me. She was a senior, and out of all her friends, she picked me. We made plans to stay with a cousin who lived in Ocala, which was near equal distances from Orlando and Daytona Beach. It was perfect; Disneyworld to the South, sand and waves to the East. We lived the majority of our childhood years on the Gulf Coast, so we were excited about exploring the other side, so to speak.

The morning we left, we decided to drive straight through. It’s a long haul from Michigan to Florida, but we were determined to start basking in that golden Florida sunshine once more. Mom and Dad sent us off with plenty of food, a CB system, and a prayer. Other than filling up the gas tank, we had no reason to stop. We actually made good time, reaching Atlanta by midnight.

Tired and needing to stop for a rest, we settled on a cheap motel just South of the city. The room was dingy and dim, and after driving without out the air conditioner on (good ole dad wanted us to save on gas) I, quite honestly, felt the need for a little cleaning up, but the bathroom faired much worse than the room itself. Ants in the tub; mold along the sink, it was outright disgusting. We heard fighting in the next room. Not the bickering of a husband and wife after a long day of traveling, but the hand and fist, foul mouthed version of domestic violence we weren’t accustomed to. Jamie and I gave each other frightened “I don’t think so” glares and quickly decided to stick to our original plan: driving straight through.

Back on the road, we hit light traffic. Only a few big rigs and a couple of “Florida or Bust” travelers passed us by. Jamie followed behind a flatbed semi that seemed to go along at a good speed for her. We were back in our comfort zone when a strap flew off the flat bed, missing our windshield by less than an inch. In our upbringing, we learned to cry out for Jesus in these situations. So, we cried out for “Jesus!”

Over the CB we heard. “You girls all right?” The only vehicle around was the flat bed in front of us…how did he know we were girls?

Jamie quickly answered, “A little scared, but no one hurt.” She slowed and the flatbed raced out of sight.

“Where you headed?” he asked.

“Ocala.” she replied.

“Follow me.” Out of no where, a big rig swung around us. Where did he come from?

My sister continued to talk with this man, telling him our real names, despite our “handles”. I wish I could remember what they were, probably something like “Sunshine Bound and Little Angel.” His was Big Papa. She told him where we were from, what we were doing. I, on the other hand, became a little leery. She told him that too.

By daylight, we inched toward the interchange of Interstates 10 and 75. Big Papa asked us to stop for some breakfast. He could use a cup of coffee and he’d pick up the tab. I automatically said no, but Jamie had no qualms. We followed him right into the truck stop, parking right behind his rig. Jamie jumped right out of the car. I couldn’t believe it. This guy could have been an axe murder or rapist for all we knew. But my sister had a point. If he was going to kill us, he would have done it in the dark of the night.

I watched through the car window as Jamie greeted this very stereotypical truck driver. Long greasy hair, oil stained t-shirt, ripped blue-jeans and a scraggly beard. She waved me to “come on”. Reluctantly, I joined them.

Jamie and I sat across the table from Big Papa. His sincere eyes gleamed through the steam rising from his coffee. He had letters tattooed across his knuckles. J – E- S- U – S. He noticed my awareness and smiled at me, sending chills down my spine. Despite his appearance, his grace in that moment told me, do not be afraid. I glanced at my sister, she knew all along.

Once again, we followed Big Papa. He took I-10 toward Jacksonville, while we continued on to Ocala. I picked up the CB mike, “Thank You, Big Papa. Have a safe trip”.

There was no reply.

True Story. Looking back, I have never wondered why this person, real or not, came to us. We called out, and he was there, out of no where. He guided us through the darkness and into the day (light), he fed us and calmed our fears. Amazing.


BTW, Mike’s book arrived yesterday … I am on chapter nine and loving every word.