CQ Summer 2016

It was the epic family adventure of my
Junior year of high school. Over the
course of four weeks, we would drag our
twenty-three-foot travel trailer behind
the family Buick some 5,000 miles from
our home in northern Indiana down to
beaches of Acapulco, Mexico and back.
Others may have taken an airplane or
searched for a destination closer to
home. The dunes and shoreline of Lake
Michigan were less than 200 miles away.
But such a tame excursion would not
suffice for the summer of 1980.
We crossed the border into Mexico at
Brownsville, TX. The Mexican patrol
searched the trailer inside and out; once,
twice, three times. As they began a
fourth search Dad realized their thoroughness
was not just a matter of curiosity.
With incentive from his wallet we
were quickly on our way.
After a few days touring Mexico City
(Yes, we actually found an RV park in
Mexico City!) we began the drive down
to Acapulco. The locals warned of the
danger traveling that road and strongly
cautioned us to find lodging well before
sundown. That stretch of highway was
known for thieves preying on unsuspecting
tourists.
Many of the roads we had traveled thus
far were barely paved and full of potholes.
The highway on the way out of
Mexico, however, was a reasonably wellkept
two-lane freeway. Having been in
the country for several days, our confidence,
and our Spanish, was improving.
Everything was going great. That is until
late afternoon when we hit a large dip in
the road. The Buick went nearly airborne.
The trailer jostled. We heard a
screeching noise along with the smell of
smoking rubber. Dad maneuvered our rig
to the side of the road and we inspected
the damage.
The bounce had broken the springs on
passenger side of the trailer.
Before I go further, you have to understand
that my Dad is one of those guys
who can fix or repair anything. He did all
the engine work and tune ups on our
automobiles. When we lived in Pennsylvania,
Dad was a volunteer firefighter in
charge of maintenance on all the fire
trucks. More than once I’d seen Dad take
an impossible fix and make it work. I
could see his mind turning as we stared
at our broken trailer, but I had little
doubt that he would figure a way out of
this one.
I handed him tools and held the flashlight.
(Sadly, this remains the extent of
my automotive repair abilities.) He tried
several approaches. However, each one
failed. With every attempt he grew more
frustrated until finally he said, “Son, we
need to pray.” I couldn’t believe that Dad
was surrendering to mechanical defeat.
We bowed in prayer asking God for help.
Then we waited. The late afternoon sun
was quickly fading as car after car passed
by our stranded trailer.
Finally, one car slowed and pulled to the
side of the road. The license plate was
from Texas. The young man, traveling
with his wife and children in their small
station wagon, approached us with a
kind smile and asked if we needed help.
Did we ever!
It turns out the man lived in the town
just over the crest of the next hill. He
soon returned with the local mechanic
who, with the proper tools, was able to
secure the axle enough for us to limp
into town. We spent the night in our
trailer behind the fenced-in lot of the
repair shop. It was impossible to order a
new spring for the camper, but the mechanic
had a friend in another town who
was able to custom make the part. Two
days later, we had a new spring and the
trailer was ready to go.
Our family has fond memories of the
hospitality we received from the warmhearted
people of that little village. The
rest of our Mexico trip went smoothly.
The sandy beaches of Acapulco were
amazing and I have many fond memories
of the all the things we saw and did.
As a middle-aged man, what I cherish
most about that trip today was witnessing
the power of surrender to an unsolvable
problem. Today, I know surrendering
to God’s care is not a last resort. It’s
the starting place for facing all of life’s
challenges.
— Steve Oglesbee
Lead Pastor at CLPC
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