September 3, 1969
As Nate and I were unloading in Champaign, Mom and Dad were loading up back home, but their good deed hit a road block — literally. The two of them had driven to a friend’s house to borrow a giant van on our behalf, and Mom (who said she’d driven since the age of 12 and had a spotless record) took the wheel. Dad followed in the car.
Before Mom got to the end of the block, she’d had an accident, scraping the side of a car parked in the street. It belonged to a neighbor’s guest, and Mom felt terrible. When she got out to inspect the van, she felt even worse. She’d nailed two-for-one.
The neighbors quickly called the police, and when all was said and done, Mom had added a moving violation to the morning, making it three-for-one.
I’m not sure what Dad said at the time, but my guess is that the words “dollars and cents” came out, along with “burning the candle at both ends.” I think Dad knew (being married to Mom) that even though he’d just retired at 70, putting his feet up someplace wasn’t in the cards.
Promising to get everything fixed when they returned from hauling our things to Champaign, they drove out of the neighborhood and proceeded as planned, picking up what would become our apartment stove and other “recycled” furniture items. Together they drove the 156 mile route, and we welcomed them with a tour of our 3 rooms and a well-earned cup of coffee. They only stayed a few minutes, though, and climbed right back into the van to head home, rounding out the day at 355 miles.
Late that night, Mom wrote of her remorse in her diary. The pages that followed detailed further frustration at having to take the borrowed van to a body shop on three different occasions before they finally got it right. As for poor Dad, his insurance and checkbook took a healthy hit (van, car, and ticket), making him wonder if he shouldn’t have just shipped the items professionally.
Down in Champaign, though, we were jubilant over our good fortune as the apartment began to feel homey. And it got even better. Nate’s parents phoned to tell us that a small but brand new refrigerator was on its way!
When it arrived, we were speechless. It wasn’t small at all but a full-size Kelvinator. The senior Nymans insisted they’d ordered and paid for only a small one and tried repeatedly to straighten it out with the Champaign appliance store. We, too, made several attempts to get them to pick it up. In the end, they said, “Oh, just keep it,” and we used that beautiful ‘fridge for 23 years.
With all this good fortune coming our way, Nate and I decided to celebrate by buying a few practical orange items to enhance our tiny kitchenette.
After that, the only thing missing was someone who knew how to cook.
“Let all that I am praise the Lord; may I never forget the good things he does for me.” (Psalm 103:2)