The Hug That Save Me
I feel compelled to share this story for multiple reasons. I believe some moments in time are meant to be shared. Whether a lesson can be learned from a practical stand point, or if a greater message may be interpreted, I would leave to others to decide.
Since my early days, I have been around machinery and automobiles. My father had race cars and I followed his foot steps. In high school, I was awarded my moms hand-me-down 1968 Chevelle, which was my first car. Over the years, the car endured many transformations. The Chevelle would be the subject of our story.
In August of 2004, I was blessed to experience the thrill of fatherhood. I became the proud parent of an awesome little boy, named Lane, in honor of my maternal grandfather. He was truly a blessing, and would spend much of his infant time in our shop, while we worked on hot rods. Lane would play with tools, bolts, and just about any part he could get his hands on.
In 2006, we had decided to restore the 1968 Chevelle that I had grown up with, with the original engine and transmission that we had retained over the years. This work was being conducted in our two car garage, just steps away from our two bedroom home in Carrollton, Texas. With the birth of Lane, my priorities had changed from racing, to more shop time at home. The Chevelle project was perfect timing.
Lane was truly a blessing. We had been advised by doctors that we would likely not be able to have children, so Lane was truly a surprise. Lane had a difficult birth, but once he arrived into the world, he has amazed me every day. One day in particular, stands out to me, and always will.
I will try to summarize the specifics, regarding the automotive details of the story. Basically, I was in the middle of an engine and transmission change on the Chevelle. The project had several twists and turns, which led to a weekend with the Chevelle up on jack stands. I had just reinstalled our engine and transmission. The car had all four tires and wheels removed, as we were replacing the brakes and performing other maintenance as well. The vehicle was supported by a large hydraulic jack in the front, with two jack stands along the front frame. The rearend was supported by two jack stands, as well as two more stands at the rear of the car. Safety was important to us, and we had plenty of equipment to keep us safe.
With the birth of my son Lane, I developed a need to make any moment of departure, a cause for a spiritual recognition of sorts. That is to say, before I would leave to go to work, or before any separation of family, I wanted to say 'I love you', and make sure to get a hug and kiss. There were no exceptions.
I had certain rituals with firing up a new engine, among them are a 'pre-oiling' using a modified distributor housing. Without going into too much detail, this operation on the Chevelle engine had found an oiling problem, which required the new engine to be removed. This would make an engine and transmission swap procedure, take the better part of two weeks. Once the issues were resolved, on a Friday night, I was able to complete the engine preparation and installation. Work had been performed over the course of a couple of weeks, and for about seven hours straight on a Friday night. All that would remain, would be the bottom end work, such as drive train and exhaust preparations.
So, a Saturday morning would find me underneath the Chevelle. After about three hours of work, I would hear the back door of the house open, and the joyous conversations between Lane and his mom, as they were planning their Saturday shopping trip. I was underneath the Chevelle, with several things going on in the way of the project, but as was the routine, I would crawl out and enjoy our ritual of hugs and kisses.
I remember crawling out from under the car, and walked through the doorway of the shop. Lane was already in the car, and his mom was already behind the wheel. I gave Lane a hug and a kiss, and told him I loved him. About the time we concluded our goodbye routine, we heard a loud crash from within the shop. Dust and debris could be seen in the air. Lane's mom, Angel, inquired as to what the commotion was, and I replied that something probably fell from a shelf, knowing that I may have a slightly bigger issue at hand.
Once Lane and Angel had pulled out of the drive, I walked back into the shop. My knees became weak and I had to sit down, once I saw what had happened. The 3200 pound Chevelle that had been supported for two weeks, and that I had been under for roughly seven hours, three hours of which were that very morning, had come crashing down. After I was able to diagnose the situation, I could determine that a series of events would combine to allow for such a disaster. Most of the weight of the front end of the car, was supported by a hydraulic jack. The surface of the frame, where the jack was positioned, had been soaked with oil, allowing the jack to slide on an angled surface. The rotation of the vehicle, as the frame slid from the jack, caused the front two jack stands to pitch. This load shift, caused one of the rear jack stands to fail, which led to the entire vehicle rotating and sliding off of the stands. The scenario is hard to describe, but easy to understand visually.
What is really clear to me, is God's will. I have told this story a few times, just never written it down. I hope it makes sense. Basically, God blessed me with a son. And his will, allowed me to continue to be a father. On this day, after weeks, days and hours of being under a vehicle, God sent Lane to me. After hours under the vehicle that morning, I was only out from under the car for about 15 seconds, before it came crashing down. Hours and hours under the car, and only seconds saved my life.
Lane saved my live that day. There is no question. God put into me a need to get out from under the car, and hug my son. The only reason I did that, and continue to do so, is because we never know when the last time may be. On that day, that was the last time, if I had not. They were in the car, about to leave. The car that fell, would have crushed me, with no one around to help. Survival of such an accident, is not realistic. Seconds. I rolled out from under the car, walked about ten steps and leaned in to hug my son, and the car fell.
So, lessons to be learned might include that no amount of equipment can guarantee your safety. Also, quality equipment might be a great investment. I will not identify the manufacturers of a couple of the tools that failed, but they are the type of tools commonly available at discount stores. To me, the greater lesson is this. God truly is in my life, and is in the life of my son. God is in my life, through my son, and had his hand on both of us on a day that I will never forget.
I find it hard to describe in words, the events of that morning. I hope that our story might in some way help someone, looking for an inspiration. I guess this is a testimony of sorts, and I am proud to share. Hug your loved ones and thank God for the time you share with them. For me, that hug saved my life.
