Wednesdays are hectic in the Press offices. It’s the day we go to print and it’s probably the one day of the week that it is absolutely pertinent that the editorial staff get to work on time. So of course, as per Murphy’s Law, Wednesday morning is always the day that something goes wrong. Two weeks ago it was a dead battery due to the cold snap we had. Yesterday it was the bringing together of the undercarriage of my Honda hybrid and a snow bern the size of Delaware.
As I sat, grumpy and spiteful with Mother Nature, at the intersection of 14th and I with my car high centered on the berm of accumulated snow I thought about a great many things. Among them where the following: I could see the coffee shop I desperately wanted to be in at that moment mere feet away from where I was marooned. My hybrid, while fuel efficient and totes adorable, sucks in snow. I have five pages of layout still to do in addition to proofing/copy editing and an interview with a source for an article I’m writing. Abandoning my vehicle and walking the three blocks back to my house to go back to bed and forget about responsibility was not an option.
I spent a few minutes trying to dig out the front end of my car with my ice scraper and the toe of my boot. I watched as several cars swerved around me, flashing angry eyebrows and pursed lips as they passed. No one honked at least. I did have my hazard lights on at least. I was broadcasting that I was having a rough morning. I called my editor to let her know that I was going to be late, while I was on the phone with her brainstorming if either of us knew someone who could come rescue me there was a knock on my window.
Hark! A strange man with a giant truck has stopped to see if I need help. Yessir! I figured that since the snow was ankle deep and still falling that he would maybe just try to push/rock me out of the berm. Nope, this angel in a plaid shirt gets down on the ground, IN THE SNOW and hooks up a hitch to the axel of my car and then as I sit in my warm interior he gently pulls the car loose from the snow. He unhitches his truck, lets me know the next intersection over is plowed better and might be easier for my car. He wishes me a good day and off he goes. My knight in snow soaked denim.
This moment epitomizes my love of our community. Sometimes people are jerks and roll their eyes at the silly girl in the tiny car stuck in the snow but occasionally some excellent example of human compassion saves the day. And in this case, at least five pages of your favorite local, alt weekly newspaper. I know it’s a little aww shucks and “good will towards mankind”. Maybe even a bit saccharin for this jaded entertainment editor but seriously, this dude saved my deadline day and I don’t even know his name.
Mister, if you saved a lady in a blue Honda at 14th and I at about 9:30 a.m. on 12/12/12 please know you also, in a small way at least, saved this week’s issue of the Anchorage Press. And my faith in humanity.