~and I remember my father's advice~

My father was a very wise man, one who imparted a plethora of advice and wisdom to his little girl.  I am reminded of most of it each and every day.  Even though he has been gone since 1982, I still try to take it to heart in all of my daily doings.  One of the first ones I remember him telling me as a young driver in my teenage years was this.

"Peggy Ann Scott, do not EVER let your gas gauge go below the 1/2 full mark!"

Yesterday I forgot.
Big time.

I leave in the very early morning hours in order to arrive at school by 6:30 a.m.  I prefer to get there about an hour ahead of time in order to get myself prepared for the day.  I said my good-bye to Mike and started out of town, making my way towards the winding roads that take me to Petrolia.  I was only about 12 miles from home when I heard a dinging sound and looked down to see "LOW FUEL" displayed across the dash board.  Geesch!  I looked at the gauge and saw that I had only one tiny bar left of fuel remaining.  I hadn't even bothered to check it to see how low it had gotten.  I had just gotten in and started on my way.

It's amazing how quickly a person can do the math.  The display said that I could make it another 38 miles before I was totally at 0.  I knew that I had another 15 miles to go before I reached Petrolia and so I began to pray that I would make it.  By the time I got to the orchards near Charlie, the normally green fuel gauge bar had turned to fire engine red.  I thought I had about 22 miles of fuel left but even that information was no longer displayed on the dash.  I had 8 more miles to go at this point and to be right honest, I figured I was doomed.  In the proverbial "no man's land" of back country Texas not checking to see how much fuel I had left was looking to be disastrous.  I had nothing else to try accept to just keep going on.  If I simply just ran out of gas, sooner or later a school bus would have to come along and see me.  But in the meantime, it would mean having to sit alongside the road in the dark.

Praise the good Lord above, that did not have to happen.  By the time I saw the city lights ahead, I knew that I would make it.  I've never been so happy to see fuel pumps in my life and I didn't care one bit that the gas would cost me nearly 50 cents a gallon more than I would normally have paid at home.  It was 14.76 gallons of fuel to fill a 15 gallon tank very well spent.  

I'd made it but not by much.  In 44 years of driving on Kansas, Colorado, and now Texas roads I never once found myself in this kind of predicament.  I had always heard the expression of "going in on fumes" but never realized what it really meant until yesterday.  A whole lot of praying went on in 15 miles, more so than the usual yesterday morning.  My prayers were answered and all ended up well.  

I was just 27 years old when my father passed away.  He loved me very much and never wanted any harm or danger to come to me anywhere, but especially behind the wheel of an automobile. My guardian angel was surely with me yesterday and one thing remains for certain.

My father was a very wise man.

John B. Scott, Jr. at home in Hutchinson, Kansas.  This picture was taken about a month before he passed away.

So thankful that he could see me finally cross the stage at graduation day from Sterling College back in 1979.  Three years later he would be gone.  I miss him and still love him to this day.