The old 15-passenger van was notorious for its breakdowns, in spite of all Jim's valiant efforts to anticipate them and replace parts before it became necessary. Two incidents in particular stand out in my memory. The first one happened at the very end of our now-famous reunion with the Quezada family in 1999. We had spent a week with them in Yellowstone and the Black Hills, unknowingly planting seeds that would lead to their joining us in Oaxaca two years later.
Tornado watches were in effect when we packed our tents and camping gear and said goodbye to our dear friends. They were heading west back to Oregon, and we were heading east to spend some time in Ohio. Just before the split in the road, the kids talked their dad into passing the Quezadas' van and trailer so they could wave one last time, and beat them to the turn-off. Right after we passed them, the car simply died. The transmission gave out.
The Quezadas, thinking we needed to talk to them, pulled up behind us to see what was the matter. Thankfully they owned a cell phone, and were able to call a tow truck. Not one other traveler took time to see if we needed aid. The other cool provision was that there was only one hotel room left in the entire town (since all the campers were abandoning camp due to the weather alerts). Guess where that one room was? Right behind a transmission shop. Yep, honest to goodness truth. The busiest tourist weekend of the year for Sioux Falls, South Dakota, and God saved us a room.
Yeah, those were a fun couple of days. We were the spectacles of the hotel. NINE PEOPLE in that one tiny room? (I was glad North Dakota wasn't as particular as Texas and other states that always required two rooms for that many bodies, due to fire marshal regulations). At night I would take the little ones to the lobby in their jammies to snuggle up on a big leather sofa to read a bedtime story. During the day they would swim in the indoor pool and run around the hotel. It wasn't too bad. It could have been a lot worse.
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One Easter break, we packed our three little girls and us into our transvan to travel from Cleveland, OH to go visit the church we had pastored in rural Georgia. On the way, the van broke down, and the night was uncharacteristically cold, so the five us all piled together on the little "bed" in the back and hunkered down for the night until daylight would hopefully reveal a place to provide help. Well, we awoke to ... chickenpox ! ...and thus, a need to commandeer and quarantine and entire lobby at the mechanic shop! And yes, we kept our three pox-marked Easter darlings in the van outside the church for Easter services :)
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