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Tim Breen, Homepage Studio and Builder Services Product Manager:

A busy day at work had just ended and it was approaching 8:00 p.m. Not bad for a Monday. I was trying to get home early to prepare for a business trip to the West Coast. My flight was leaving at 6:00 a.m. the next morning. Little did I know, my adventures for the day were far from over.

I jumped into my car and started my drive home — about 103 miles due east. Yeah, that's right, 103 miles! You see, Billsville (a.k.a. Williamstown, MA) is nestled in the extreme northwest corner of the state of Massachusetts; far from what many urban dwellers would call civilization. I love the area. Billsville is surrounded by mountains — it's one of most beautiful towns anywhere. My commute takes me through some of the most scenic areas of New England. I wouldn't see any of it tonight though; the sun had already set.

I had only been working at Tripod for about three weeks, and I had already established a ritual of stopping at a Cumberland Farms in North Adams (about 10 miles away) to fill up on gas and goodies for the two hour ride home. I pulled up to the gas pumps and filled up my thirsty minivan.

I went into the store to get some snacks and pay for the gas. As I walked out I began thinking about how tired I was, and how early I would have to get up the next morning to catch my 6:00 am flight. The drive from my house to the airport in Boston usually takes about an hour and a half, depending on traffic. I figured that I would have to set my alarm for no later than 3:30 a.m. to make it on time. I couldn't be late. My new boss would be waiting for me at the airport in San Francisco.

I jumped back into my car and turned the key. Nothing. Not a sound came from the engine. That's OK, I told myself. I figured I hadn't put the car in Park. I checked the lever and turned the key again. Still nothing. The engine showed no signs of life whatsoever. A string of thoughts started running through my head. If I couldn't get home, I certainly wasn't going to make it to the airport on time; and if I didn't make it to the airport on time, I wouldn't make it to my meetings in San Francisco on time. And that was not the way I wanted to start off with a new company.

I popped the hood and checked the battery cables. Everything looked OK, but I thought I would disconnect the cables from the battery to clean them and reconnect them nice and snug. I had a few tools in the car which hadn't gotten much use because the car had been so dependable.

Luckily, there was nobody waiting behind me at the pumps. I was able to get the cables off with just a few scraped knuckles. I cleaned and reconnected them and then hopped back into the car. Nothing happened. The only thing I could think of to try at that point was the ol' banging your head on the steering wheel trick. That didn't work either.

By that time a car had pulled up behind me at the pumps, so I put my car in neutral, got out, and started pushing it off to the side of the parking lot. Just as I got up some momentum, I noticed a woman walking in my path about five feet ahead. Luckily the woman saw my van cruising toward her a little out of my control, and quickly moved out of the way. I apologized for almost running her over, and then she offered to help me.

She had some old, and I mean old, jumper cables in her car. She handed them to me and I noticed that the plastic shielding around the wires was cracked and entire pieces were missing. I thought for sure that I'd be electrocuted, but I was desperate. I connected the cables and I was still alive, so I let the battery recharge for a while and tried turning the key again. No luck.

I felt that I had already taken up a lot of her time, and I didn't know for sure whether the battery was the cause of the problem or not. I disconnected the jumper cables and thanked her for her help, especially after I had almost run her over.

My next plan was to try to find a phone book so I could look for a repair garage that offered services at what was quickly approaching 9:00 p.m. I knew it was a long shot, but I couldn't think of another option.

I began to walk towards the store when the same woman said: "Hey, I really think you just need a new battery. Hop in my car and I will drive you over to Wal-Mart to buy a new one." I had no idea how far away Wal-Mart was but it sounded like a better idea than trying to find a repair service at this time of night. I gladly accepted her offer.

As she began driving it occurred to me that I had not even introduced myself to her. I told her that I had recently started working at Tripod and that I was not very familiar with the area. She was a local college student who lived in the area and she was working towards a degree in English. We continued to talk while she drove though North Adams to Wal-Mart.

She came into the store with me and showed me to the automotive area. I was able to quickly find the right battery for my car. On our way out we stopped to picked up a few more tools just to be safe. Then we headed back to my dean heap.

As I got out of her car, I thanked her from the bottom of my heart for being so kind and for taking so much of her time to help me. But before I had finished, she got out of her car and said, "I'll hold the flashlight for you." It was very dark that night and it surely would have taken me twice as much time to change the battery without her holding the flashlight while I worked.

Once all the connections were made I jumped back into my car, said a little prayer, and turned the key. To my delight, the engine started up like it was new. I thanked her again for being so caring to a perfect stranger, and I tried to explain to her how much her help meant to me. She simply smiled and said, "I'm just glad I could help."

I got home a little after midnight, packed my clothes, and fell asleep before my head hit the pillow. I arrived at the airport on time the next morning and had an incredibly productive trip, thanks to this wonderful person. There are definitely still some of them out there!

Tim, Homepage Studio and Builder Services Product Manager (10/30/98)

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