Modern Day Good Samaritian

Some have asked me to print a story that Brent Daley, one of my buddies at our drop in, has written.  Here it is, with only moderate editing.  Anybody need a ghost writer?

It was the spring of 1995 when I moved back home from Calgary. I was tired after spending 15 years as a mechanical engineering technologist at the University of Calgary, but if the truth be known I was burned out.

The normal three day drive would double because of the shape I was (wasn’t) in both physically and mentally.  My aging Honda Civic was packed full and the utility trailer I was hauling had more than double it’s capacity.  I had everything I owned with me.

 An early May morning on the north shore of Lake Superior showed God’s handiwork: deep blue sky, blue lake, paper white beaches, trees in bloom – it was a picture postcard.  Highway good, no traffic, my gas tank was ¾ full with 30 miles from the last town and 20 to the next. That is when the trouble began.

 My body tensed when I heard the loud crunch and grind behind