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Taking control My parents took my three children and me home for a visit to Ohio, a 10-hour trip. Just inside the Blue Ridge Mountains the car wouldn’t go up; it just stopped. My father, a retired truck driver, spazzed out not knowing what to do. I took control and yelled into the CB: “Breaker, breaker – lady with five children stranded alongside of mountain!” To this day, Mom and I still laugh. We had only four little children. (I had included my dad.) A trucker pulled up and offered to take someone on up the mountain for help. Again, I had to take control and climb in his rig. The trucker brought me back with oil and water. We coasted the car to the next city and put on an AC water pump. We started out again only to break down on the next set of mountains. This time we put on an oil pump. We finally got started again and had to baby the car the rest of the way home, as it was still not running right. It took us 27 hours for a 10-hour trip just to find out it was the vacuum lines the whole time. Cheri Mulholland |
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