Now & Then — The best laid plans can easily go awry

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

As a minister’s family in a church of circuit riders, we have moved many times in the past 50 years. I count 18 moves since 1961. For Methodist preachers, moving means planning and moving on a set moving day. On moving day, the moving out minister and family leave the house in the morning, and the new minister and family arrive sometime in the afternoon, usually greeted by a team of people gathered to help unload their moving truck. So, for us, moving always meant planning in advance, packing in advance, scheduling a moving van or renting a UHaul in advance, and moving on schedule.

Although advance planning is a great help, the best laid plans can come undone. We have often come through a move relieved and grateful that even though things went wrong, everything finally worked out. Our move to Pea Ridgein 2002 was probably the epitome of a move in which everything went awry, but eventually all worked out.

When we bought our Patton Street house in December 2000, we planned a once-a-month trip to Pea Ridge, moving a few belongings each time, and doing renovation and remodeling on the house. So, each month, we made the trip from Augusta, Ark., staying about three days, painting walls, reworking the kitchen, and so on. We planned the big final move, with a U-Haul truck, for June 2002. Our friends Glenn and Barbara from Augusta decided to come with us on the big move, and then to go on to Kansas to see Barbara’smother. We would travel in three vehicles. Glenn would drive the big truck, I would follow with a load in my pickup, and Nancy and Barbara would bring up the rear in their car. I started out carrying our new cell phone, a first for us, and we had a set of walkie-talkies for talking between vehicles. It was a fine plan, and nothing could go wrong, so we thought.

The first leg of our move went without a hitch. We stopped in Russellville to refuel. While we were pumping gas, Nancy borrowed the cell phone to make a call to Pea Ridge, and we drove on to Alma, where we stopped to talk over an idea the girls had.

They suggested that they go on ahead to Pea Ridge to get the house ready for our arrival. That sounded good to everyone, so they set out alone, and Glenn and I came on more slowly with the trucks, laboring up theI-540 grades over Mt. Gaylor. Since the girls had gone on ahead, they would be well beyond the two-mile range of our walkie-talkies, so I turned my unit off. It is truly amazing what chaos can be created by an innocent thing like turning off a walkie-talkie.

Glen and I were moving along with the trucks until we topped the hill south of West Fork. Suddenly he pulled the U-Haul off to the side and stopped. I pulled up behind him, and walked up to see what was wrong. Glenn had the hood up on the U-Haul truck, and a cloud of steam was rising from the engine. The radiator was dry, and the engine had overheated. We soon discovered a leak atthe water pump. The only water we had with us was a couple of small bottles of drinking water. We poured those into the radiator, but it was obviously too little to chance driving the truck. Idecided to take my pickup and go on into West Fork to get water. I bought three gallons from a grocery, and started back to the stranded U-Haul. I got on the southbound lane of I-540 and drove about a mile, then turned off at a cross-over.

I noticed as I turned that a car behind me blared on the horn, but I thought they were just trying to tell me I was crossing where I shouldn’t, so I went on without looking or paying much attention. That turned out to be another “innocent” mistake.

Once I reached the UHaul, we poured all our water into the cavernous radiator. Then we drove on to the West Fork exit, exited to the intersection, and Glenn waited while I went for more water in town.

Now having several gallons of water to take care of our leaky engine, we drove on to Fayetteville, filled the radiator again, and this timedrove on to Pea Ridge without further incident. Glenn and I were thinking how we would entertain our wives with our exciting adventure story.

We pulled into the driveway at Pea Ridge, but before we could start telling Nancy and Barbara about how cleverly we had handled our roadside troubles, they were on to us, or me, with “Where did you disappear to? Why didn’t you answer your walkie-talkie? Why were you driving the wrong way on the interstate? How could you just vanish?

We’ve been worried sick!!”

Next week, the rest of the story....◊◊◊

Editor’s note: Jerry Nichols, a native of Pea Ridge, is a retired Methodist minister with a passion for history. He is vice president of the Pea Ridge Historical Society. He can be contacted by e-mail at [email protected], or call 621-1621.

News, Pages 5 on 04/06/2011