Three weeks ago yesterday I took my 2-year-old car in to have its engine replaced. While it's a giant hassle to be without one's car for almost a month, it's under warranty, and the dealership (understanding my frustration) offered me a giant upgrade to use during the repairs: a beast of a car called a Volkswagen Phaeton.
You may not have heard of this monster, with its 350 HP V-8 engine, cooled and massaging seats and insane top speed at about 150 miles per hour (unfortunately, it also gets about 12 miles per gallon). I've been driving it sparingly, because I can barely afford to fill it up, but that's a different story, altogether.
The reason I mention all this is because on Friday night at Miller Park, the mighty Phaeton got a flat tire (or "flat tyre" as its onboard computer told me). I'm not sure how it happened -- with the user-programmable suspension on this car, I could've been driving on the surface moon and not felt a crater.
There, standing in the lot (it was about 10 p.m.), I realized that I was a little screwed. In my 17 years of driving, I've only had two flat tires, including this one. I've changed and rotated the tires of a far less sophisticated automobile and had a vague idea of what to do in this situation. Of course, the loaner car didn't have an owner's manual included. But worse, it being the $75,000 luxury sedan (another reason it didn't last long in the States; it is a VW, after all), it didn't use your standard lug nuts and the like. It required an allen wrench (not in the trunk) and a few other tools not provided -- ironically, my personal tool box is sitting in the trunk of my currently engine-less Saab.
That's when an older SUV with a cracked windshield pulled up. Out stepped a man, with his two teenage daughters in the backseat.
"Do you need some help?" he asked, in great English, but with an obvious Spanish accent. English wasn't his first language, and by the looks of his car, he wasn't a man of great means.
"I really do," I admitted, and the stranger said he'd be glad to change my tire.
The first thing he noticed was that the Phaeton would need a bigger jack, which he fortunately had in the back of his truck. Then he noticed that it needed special tools, also in the back of his truck. He spent about 30 minutes finessing the flat tire off this quirky behemoth and putting back on its full-size spare.
Standing there, idly, I attempted to make chit chat. I asked the stranger if he enjoyed the Brewers game tonight. In fact, it turns out that he was at Miller Park by mistake. He was actually en route to a job interview that was to take place at State Fair Park. I didn't realize it at the time, but the contractor who he called as he began changing my tire was his would-be boss, telling him he'd be a little late.
So this kind stranger was unemployed, or at least under-employed, heading to State Fair Park for a job interview with a contractor at 10 p.m. on a Friday night. And he stopped to change the tire of a clueless guy driving around in a $75,000 sedan.
When he finished, I looked in my wallet, which held a measly $20. I offered it to him as a small gesture of thanks. And then he said to me sheepishly, "You don't have to give me any money … but I won't turn you down, either."
I, of course, gave him the money, but what he said next nearly floored me.
"God takes care of people who take care of each other," he said in a totally non-preachy sort of tone. "Next time God will do you a favor. Thank you so much for the $20."
I stammered my reply, which was something like, "I think God will help you out before me, thanks to your kindness." It probably didn't sound half as eloquent in person.
We at OnMilwaukee.com have Brewers seasons tickets, so I offered to send him a few if I could get his address. This morning, Rene the stranger got a lot more than four club seats dropped in the mail. I sent him some of everything we have stored up in our office -- in total, several hundred bucks worth of dining gift certificates, Summerfest passes and Brewers tickets. But I don't mention this because I'm looking for anyone to say, "That was a classy response, Andy."
Instead, I was so completely humbled by the experience, this utter act of kindness from a stranger, that I had to ask myself what I would've done in his position: the answer, of course, would have been to keep on driving to that interview and get my kids to bed.
Honestly, I just wanted Rene to know that I agreed with him: good deeds are rewarded, and in lieu of gift from God, hopefully he and his kids could enjoy a fancy meal and some good Brewers tickets.
Before Friday, I was getting downright impatient about my engine repair. I was calling the dealership regularly, asking when it would it done, and more importantly, what kind of car needs a new engine after 22,000.
But when the service guy called last night to say the car should be ready Wednesday night (keep your fingers crossed), I honestly felt a little more at ease about the long wait. The kindness of one Milwaukee stranger put it all in perspective -- in a half an hour, fixing a car that costs more than he makes in a year.
My inconveniences -- so relatively minor in the grand scheme of things -- can wait.
Andy is the president, publisher and founder of OnMilwaukee. He returned to Milwaukee in 1996 after living on the East Coast for nine years, where he wrote for The Dallas Morning News Washington Bureau and worked in the White House Office of Communications. He was also Associate Editor of The GW Hatchet, his college newspaper at The George Washington University.
Before launching OnMilwaukee.com in 1998 at age 23, he worked in public relations for two Milwaukee firms, most of the time daydreaming about starting his own publication.
Hobbies include running when he finds the time, fixing the rust on his '75 MGB, mowing the lawn at his cottage in the Northwoods, and making an annual pilgrimage to Phoenix for Brewers Spring Training.
