Angels are Real

My daughter hopped in her '99 Honda Civic early this afternoon to drive to Charlottesville from Roanoke for a visit with her aunt.

When she got to the I-64/Lexington interchange, she heard a loud clunk from under the car. She immediately called her mother for mechanical reassurance. It was a one-time clunk, but everything appeared to be running normally. So my wife told her to drive on.

Within a few miles, all hell began breaking loose under the car. The whole car shook with a grinding, deafening vibration. Luckily, she was right at the White's Truck Stop exit. So she pulled in and parked the car at the Burger King in front of White's and called home.

I was out on a Coke run in the "Blue Party Van" (2003 Dodge Grand Caravan Sport) when I got the call from my wife to go on a rescue mission. So I headed up I-81.

Over past few months, I'd been noticing a clunk whenever I shifted to reverse in that car. So I wondered if the transmission might have detonated.

My daughter was happy to see me, which warmed my heart. I immediately inspected the car visually side to side, peeking under, and opened the hood.

While I am a long time listener of Car Talk, I have no mechanical skill. Car Talk has taught me about sounds and probabilities. I know where things are, but generally once you put a ratchet in my hand, I become a bumbling, nervous fool.

Under the hood, I noted that the the car was past due for an oil change and was very low on oil, but no light had come on. I also noted that the transmission fluid didn't register on the stick, an ominous sign in my Car Talk book. Furthermore, there were bits of grit in the transmission stick register.

I hopped in the car, started it...no unusual sound. Then I put it in gear and moved slowly forward. The car instantly began grinding and groaning and screeching. I immediately feared the worst. The transmission. I had convinced myself.

So my daughter and I walked over to White's and bought a quart of oil and transmission fluid. I told her that sometimes when you add tranny fluid, you can keep the issue at bay long enough to have it diagnosed properly. But more than likely, the transmission was shot. She asked me if that was bad. Chip off the ole block.

I had discussed our dilemma with the clerk at White's and she assured me that she had names of flatbed tow operators who could return the car to Roanoke for me.

After adding the fluids, I took a slow test drive around the pumps, and the horrible sounds were still there.

We were about to walk back to White's to make the call when we noticed that a guy in a nice '91 Mustang had pulled up beside us in the Burger King parking lot. He got out of his car and began tinkering with it. So in a friendly tone, I asked him if he'd ever heard the sound of a dying transmission. He told me that he had many times because he was a bit of a mechanic. So I explained my situation.

Intrigued, he came over and immediately suggested that what we were hearing most likely wasn't a transmission problem. So I asked if he'd hop in and listen. So we backed up and pulled forward. Immediately, he knew what the problem was- stuck brake caliper.

So, he suggested that I jack up the front and he would try to get it freed up. I couldn't believe our fortune. I got the cheap Civic jack and popped that tire off the ground, He got his deluxe lug wrench out and

took the bolts off the tire.

While we worked, I learned a lot about our angel. He is about 30 years old and his name is Jason Meredith. He was visiting a girl back in another part of Virginia. I won't go into all the personal details here, but Jason was feeling a little down on his luck and glum. He told me that he had been doing "man jobs" ever since high school and had never had the opportunity to go to college. I told him I went to college and never bothered to learn "man jobs."

Once the tire was off, he began looking around the caliper area...While he was doing that, I made a stunning discovery. A loose bolt was wedged into a crotch in the frame behind the front right tire, a large bolt. Jason immediately knew that the bolt had come from the brake casing. It seems it had shed one of the two bolts and was barely hanging onto the rotor. I lined the casing back up and he screwed it on, making extra sure to tighten it down thoroughly.

Problem solved. Crisis averted. No pain. No injury. I was amazed that the bolt hadn't fallen to the pavement and been lost for all time. Jason was amazed that the whole unit hadn't dislodged and ripped apart the rim, rotor, wheel well, and fender. My daughter was glad the whole thing didn't fall apart when she was traveling at 65mph down I-81. Certainly she was fortunate that her angel was watching out for her.

After we chatted for a few minutes about the VT/WV rivalry in football, the fortunes of the WV basketball game, and what a scumbag RichRod was for lying to WV, he went on his way with my thanks.

So to Jason Meredith of Charleston, WV, you are a kind gentleman and a great representative from your state. Go 'Eers!