I am a writer, and through my stories I attempt to connect with my readers on an emotional level. Today, through this short blog post, I hope to connect with you.
In 1974, due to severe gasoline rationing, most gas stations in California closed after dark.
I was driving back to San Diego from San Francisco, after touring with a rock band (I was on the drums), and was traveling just south of Los Angeles on the I-5. It was near midnight and I hadn’t spotted an open gas station for over two hours, and to make matters worse, the fuel gauge in my van was broken.
Suddenly, smack in the middle of the dark, lonely stretch of freeway running through the vast Camp Pendleton Marine Base, my van coughed and wheezed and slowed to a stop.
Remember friends, this was before cell phones and call boxes. Talk about feeling alone …
The freeway was practically deserted that night, and I walked five miles to the nearest town carrying an empty gas can along the shoulder. When I arrived I had to wait until dawn for a gas station to open, all the time stressing over the long walk back to my van – this time carrying a heavy can of gasoline.
Finally the sun rose, and I was able to get some gas and begin the long trek back.
Then, with around three miles still to hike, the most amazing thing happened: a pair of headlights lit me from behind, but instead of blowing by, the stranger pulled over to the side of the freeway, backed up to where I stood, and offered me a lift. I wasn’t hitchhiking, mind you … this kind man stopped to help me on that dangerous stretch of road purely out of the goodness of his heart.
I’m not sure what the man thought of me that cold morning as I approached his car, my long 1970′s rocker hair and scruffy clothes, the gas can slung heavily from my shoulder with my belt, gasoline dripping down my leg, but I know what I thought of him: I thought he had descended from heaven.
I’ll never forget that quiet man and what he did for me that day, his love, his honor, his friendship. He was a perfectly wonderful stranger.
Which brings me to the point of my story …
When my daughter was in high school, one of her classmates, an only child, met with an unspeakable tragedy, losing both of her parents to a drunk driver. I haven’t heard anything about that poor girl since the day of the accident, but I often think of her and wonder how she’s doing.
I think of her, and of the countless other young people who have lost one or both of their parents. If you are one of them, I’m thinking of you.
I’m thinking of those of you who have lost children or siblings to accidents, disease, or war. I could never pretend to imagine your pain.
I’m thinking of those who’ve been divorced, or widowed, those who are sick, injured, or wounded, and those caring for a loved one who is. I’m thinking of the disabled, the addicted, the elderly, and those who are simply alone and lonely.
I’m thinking of those whose sons and daughters are currently deployed overseas, and those of you serving your country with honor in a distant, perhaps hostile land. You and those who have fallen and their families are my heroes.
What impressed me so deeply that morning back in 1974 was the innocence and benevolence of that act of kindness. It was a simple gesture, yet it had a profound impact on my life, and I believe today’s troubled world needs more of that kind of love.
I’ll admit that the characters in my novels are surrounded by violence, greed, and hate, but it is there purely for my reader’s entertainment and to provide conflict for the overriding themes that I believe in: love, honor, friendship, loyalty, and traditional family values. They may be the only truly important things in life.
I know that mere words can’t relieve loneliness and suffering, but I hope it may comfort you to know that someone cares about you and what you’re going through, and that you are not alone.
And so it is through this simple blog post that I offer you, dear reader, my love, my honor, and my friendship, just as that perfectly wonderful stranger on the I-5 freeway once did for me.
——
My eyes were watering…forgive the bad writing. I confess, I didn’t edit before sending. Me bad…
John, you just started following me on Twitter. And after reading your philosophy of how to care about, love, and be there for those who depend on you, I think I’ll follow you forever. Reading the thoughts you shared with us made made eyes get teary. I’ve downloaded your book, and I know I will not cry reading it. Right? VBG
@NancyOfUtah on Twitter
Thank you so much for your kind note, Nancy. It means a great deal to me that you were moved by my post. I meant every word of it.
- john
Keep that honesty and sensitivity in your novels John and you will touch many hearts.
Thanks so much, Amelie. I truly appreciate your kind note.
- john
These are great stories, John. In our awe over the impact others have had on our lives, we mustn’t forget that we, too are affecting those whose lives we touch. Let’s make sure it is a positive effect we are having.
Strange you mention your daughter’s friend–13-year old Katrina, the young heroine in my novel THE TRAZ, was an only child orphaned by a drunk driver. I do hope the girl you mentioned made better decisions than little Katrina–to whom life will forever be a challenge.
I’m hoping Katrina’s story will help prevent children who are feeling alone and lonely from seeking comfort in drugs and gangs.
THE TRAZ http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005199RFE
http://smashwords.com/b/60190
Hi Eileen,
Thank you so much for your comments. I’m pleased that my message had meaning for you. Coincidence about your Katrina, and her life. Like you, I hope the young girl I referred to in my post is doing well.
Your Katrina is 13, and Aaron Quinn, the hero in my novel, is as well. He has to make some of the same tough choices himself.
Thanks again for commenting, Eileen. Keep in touch!
- john
Lovely. People amaze me daily with their wonderful ways and you, you? You’re an incredible writer. Thank you for the visual and the sentiment. :D
Thank you so much for commenting, Maureen! I am so glad you found meaning in my post.
- john:)
I used to live in Fallbrook, CA. so know very well the section of the I5 that you talk about. It is fairly deserted, being surrounded by Camp Pendleton on the east and the Pacific Ocean on the west and is, just as you describe, a lonely stretch. I like that this chance encounter has stayed in your mind all these years and helps you to think of others and grow as a person.
Hi Catherine,
Thank you for reading my post, and for taking the time to comment! It’s cool that you know the area I was referring to.
-john :)
Dear John,
Wow, this was so inspiring and heartfelt. I can see that you are such an amazing writer. I was so moved by the way you described your vision of what you write and the detail behind it. I also think that you touch so many people with your stories and the characters that you talk about. I am so overwhelmed with emotion after reading this. I can see why readers connect to you. I am an aspiring writer myself and I am more inspired now to fullfill my dream and destiny.
Oh my! Your blog touched my heart deeply. I have lost a father when I was 13, a brother when I was 23, my grandpa that was always there for me when I was 34. I went through a divorce when I was 5. My bio-father never wanted me or my brother. I have been through so much in my life. Thank you for caring about a complete stranger. It is comforting to know that there are still some very nice & loving people in this world today. I am now maried to my wonderful husband of 16 years & counting. We have one child, who is mentally disabled. We have been through so much in our marriage that some wonder why I am still here. Well, its because I love my husband & son with all my heart, though my son is not my biological child. He is my husband’s from his first marriage. I have helped my husband raise him since he were 3 years old. I can not have my own blood children, so my son is my son, no matter what others say or feel. My father that I lost at 13, taught me that I can love someone elses’ child, like he loved me & my brother. Wow! I have wrote too much. Thank you. I am a writer too. Though I am not published. I would love to have my work published but I can not afford to have my work published. Maybe one day, I can. Thanks again for caring!
Sincerley your friend,
Talina Collier
Oh, my gosh, Talina, you’ve been through so much. My heart goes out to you.
I am so glad you took the time to find and read my post, and it warms my heart to know you found meaning in it.
You should be very proud of what you’ve accomplished with your husband and wonderful son. You’ve no doubt worked incredibly hard to get to where you are today. It was your husband’s lucky day when he met you.
Thanks again for writing, Talina.
Your friend,
john
Hi John,
Wonderful post! If your books have a tenth of the emotion and honesty in them as this post I can’t wait to get my hands on one.
Thank you for sharing that cold morning with us :)
Savannah
Thank you for reading my post and for taking a moment to comment, Savannah. I really appreciate hearing from you!
-john
This is a lovely post. Thanks for writing it for all to see.
Thank you for taking the time to read and comment on my post, Rebecca. I really appreciate it!
-john
Loved this post! Thanks for sharing with us, John.
Thanks so much for your kind comment Willy!