A few months ago our Saturn of 12 years exploded on the highway. We had it towed to a city 25 minutes from here (Shawsville), where the diagnosed the car as dead. Jack went and cleared out all of his things out of it in June.
We then had it towed to the junk yard 20 minutes from here (C'burg). It was a huge salvage yard and we shed a quiet tear as we watched our beloved chocolate brown Saturn become part of a sea of cars, destined for destruction for parts.
We then had it towed to the junk yard 20 minutes from here (C'burg). It was a huge salvage yard and we shed a quiet tear as we watched our beloved chocolate brown Saturn become part of a sea of cars, destined for destruction for parts. Last night (4 months later) Jack came home from church and pulled these out of his pocket and asked, "These look familiar?"
A woman who lives in Cburg, but who attends our ward in Radford, came up to Jack and said, "My son works on cars and found these in a car he was working on. He recognized you and gave them to me to pass to you." The man does not attend our church. The reason he recognized Jack was from when Jack officiated at his father's funeral last month. (Nevermind how a pic of jacks mom and gma, and an airport pic of jack leaving on his mission 15 years ago got into his car...)
I mean, come on! How cool is that? We know people and know people actually know us! Kevin Bacon, here we come!
