When I was sixteen years old, a friend and I were “draggin’ main” (You older folks will know that term.) one Saturday night in the small western Arkansas town of Waldron, where we lived. We saw a car parked by the side of the road and a man looking under the hood. I told my friend that we should stop and see if we could help them.
When we pulled in behind the car, I noticed it had Indiana license plates. It meant nothing to me at the time, but I did notice. The man said that it couldn’t be fixed until morning and that he would appreciate a ride to Ft Smith, which was about fifty miles to our north. We discovered that he had a wife and two children with him so we decided to drive them to Ft Smith where they had family waiting.
I had never heard the term “Hoosier” before and didn’t know that it was a nickname for someone from Indiana. After everyone had settled down for the trip, the lady made the comment, “I’ll bet you never thought you’d be carrying a car load of Hoosiers?”
I turned around to face her and answered in my most polite voice, “No Mrs Hoosier, we sure didn’t.” For fifty miles I called them Mr and Mrs. Hoosier. I noticed they smiled a lot on the trip and wondered how they could grin and chuckle like they did considering the circumstances.
My friend and I drove up to Indiana later that summer to visit his sister and we both learned what a Hoosier was. Humiliating it was!
Remember, get a healthy dose of humor today. Doctor’s orders!
Great story! And you were a very kind and thoughtful person to provide such a service to strangers. Bless you.
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