Just as we were thinking about going to bed last night, Brett called. He couldn't reach Doug on his phone, so he tried mine. I knew when he wouldn't tell me what he wanted that something was wrong. As soon as Doug got on the phone I realized that unfortunately I was correct. Brett was coming home from a visit to his girlfriend, Rachel's, when the tire blew off of the front passenger rim. The car was completely undriveable, leaving him stranded next to a cornfield about ten miles from the closest town. Thankfully, there happened to be a small church nearby that had a tall pole light that he was able to park beside.
Brett and Doug felt that the best course of action was to call the roadside assistance from our insurance company. There were pieces of metal sticking out from the undercarriage of the Civic and neither Brett nor Doug were positive that the car would be driveable even if Brett could replace the blown tire with the donut in the trunk. Roadside assistance said that they would have someone to help him within an hour. That sounded good to us since it was late at night and not a lot was open near where Brett was stranded. Within a half hour Brett received a phone call saying that the company originally assigned to help him would not be able to make it, but another truck would be dispatched and would arrive within thirty minutes. I talked to Brett several times during his wait to keep him compancy and he also kept up a conversation with one of his friends via text as well. After an hour passed Brett and Doug both decided to call Farm Bureau back. After being put on hold for another thirty minutes Brett finally reached a live person who said that they would look into it and call him back.
At that point it was close to midnight and Brett had been waiting almost two hours. We gave up completely on our insurance. I had been looking online for another auto repair company to meet him, but everyone we tried was either closed or just wouldn't help. Doug finally decided that the next best step was to call the local police station. Within ten minutes an officer was able to locate Brett, make sure that he was alright and to evaluate the scene. He agreed with Brett that the car did not look driveable even if the tire was replaced, so he called a local tow truck company to help. The plan was to drop the car at a local auto shop and have Brett stay in a nearby hotel. As soon as the police officer confirmed that the truck was on the way he was called away to another emergency. He gave Brett his number and assured him that help would be there within fifteen minutes. Unlike our insurance company, his information was correct and by 1:10 a.m. a tow truck had arrived.
The tow truck driver had more mechanical knowledge than Brett or the helpful police officer and was able to reassure Brett that he could put the donut on and Brett would be able to drive home. He said that it was the rainguard panel that was sticking out and since the donut was smaller than a regular tire, it wouldn't rub against it. Thus, by 1:45 a.m. Brett was back in the Civic talking to me about his plan for the rest of the evening. I originally agreed with the police officer that he should go back to Charleston and spend the night. Brett said that he wanted to try and make it to Terre Haute instead as there were more tire repair places and a Hilton to stay in for the night. It was twice as far as Charlston, but a lot closer to Bloomington.
I talked with Brett off and on over the next hour. Cellular service was limited in the remote area wooded that he was traveling in, so we'd get about ten minutes of conversation in at a time before the service would cut out. As Brett neared Terre Haute he talked more and more about just driving on to Bloomington. On a normal day it would have been only an hour more. With the forty-five mile per hour speed limit that a donut requires we both knew that it would a lot longer and closer to 4:30 a.m. before he reached the safety of his apartment. Brett felt confident that he could make it and I knew that I would be able to stay up talking with him until he got home. Thankfully, Brett always has a lot of topics to discuss and soon he was closing in on Spencer, Indiana while I had found out all about his new favorite show from the 1990s "Adventures in Wonderland." We also discussed his day with Rachel, meeting her parents, politics and his new job. We stayed away from talking about COVID-19 as I was anxious enough about his current situation. Once Brett got to Elletsville, I started following him on Find My iPhone while we were still chatting. I saw him pass the football stadium, turn left on 10th, drive by the post office and finally turn into his own parking lot. At 4:28 a.m. he was in his apartment celebrating with a shot of apple jack whiskey while I was saying a pray of thanks for his safe return. It was definitely the longest night that I could remember in a quite some time, and I was so incredibly glad that all turned out well.
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