Winters of Future Past
December 24th, 1970
Ray walks down a highway about to be touched by fate in a Red Camaro. More than 10 years will pass before he learns what really happened on this mystifying Christmas Eve.
The winter sky is dark. The temperature drops. The snow has been falling for hours covering the hills and their trees with icy white powder. Interstate 5 is near closure. The snowplows have been working diligently to help travelers reach their homes. California's infamous Grapevine closes at its summit of 5000 feet nearly every January, but this year it will be closed by Christmas Eve.
In the midst of falling snow and building traffic, a car suddenly veers to the right as the engine stops, it's nearly 3 pm. The driver, a young man barely 22 years of age, tries not to alarm the passengers: his young wife and her 13 year old brother. He proceeds to lift the hood of the car, projecting confidence with a seemingly knowledgeable furrowed brow. Thoroughly he examines the mechanical workings of the simple six-cylinder engine. This is the third time today he has checked the vehicle's fluid levels, but this time there is absolutely no oil on the dip-stick.
"I'm going to the nearest phone and call for help," Says the young man to his family.
"What's wrong with the car?" his wife asks.
"Somehow we have lost all the oil."
"Shouldn't we go with you?"
"The temperature is dropping; I think you will be warmer in the car with blankets than walking with me in the snow. I won't be long."
An agreement is made with promises of help to be summoned as rapidly as possible. The young husband begins his trek. His family watches him walk down the highway.
Just as Ray turns out of view, a Red Camaro slows down along side him. The driver offers help. The cold air vibrates with the welcoming words.
"Hey there pilgrim, I bet you could use a ride. Let me take you to the next Gas Station." Ray looks into the car and sees a young pale-faced Marine.
"You are an absolute life saver! Yes. Please. And thank you!"
Though well dressed with what seemed like a heavy coat before his hike, Ray is glad to be in a warm car. He had forgotten his gloves, but reaches out a numb hand and enthusiastically shakes the marine's hand.
It is 3 PM by the clock on the dash of the Red Camaro. The young men grasp in a handshake of friendship as if they had known each other for years. Ray barely notices just how cold the young Marine's hands are. He is too busy rubbing his own hands together near the floor heater vent. The Red Camaro slings rapidly back into traffic headed south towards the nearest Gas Station. The back seat of the marine's car is packed with wrapped Christmas gifts all sitting on top and around a Red Radio Flyer.
"You couldn't have stopped at a better time Marine. So where are you headed?"
"I'm on my way to San Diego to be with my family, been driving since way early this morning from Frisco."
"San Francisco eh, you must have decided to avoid the 101 in order to make better time."
"That's a ten four. So what happened with your car, Pilgrim?"
"It's the most miserable thing I have ever seen, I specifically checked the oil before we left and then twice again before getting on the freeway. I checked all of the fluid levels but was mostly concerned about the radiator freezing. We were on the highway headed south when the engine begins to vibrate violently and then suddenly nothing. The engine stops and we coast to a standstill. I check the radiator and all seems well, the battery is fully charged, but then I check the oil, and it is bone dry."
"Anyone back in the car now, Pilgrim?"
"My wife and her younger brother."
"Well, to be honest with you, I rightly don't know where the nearest Gas Station might be, and there seems to be no immediate way to turn back. I hope they'll be all right"
"My family has the blankets from the trunk of the car and some candles. Just how far do you think we have already driven?"
"It's been about 10 miles since I picked you up."
"Hmmm, didn't think the nearest Gas station was this far. How much further you think it might be"
"Might be another 10 miles or so, Pilgrim. Let's hope we can find that gas station sooner rather than later."
"I plan on calling the Highway Patrol first thing, so they can check on the family. I want them to tell my wife and brother-in-law that I am OK, and that help will be on the way to them soon. What a miserable Christmas eve."
"Well, I'll tell ya Pilgrim, things could be worse."
"Guess your right, things can always be worse."
"Did you see what happened on a Bridge over the Potomac today?
"No, the car radio lost its reception just as we got on the freeway and I haven't been near a TV."
"Seems that a plane headed for Florida from Washington wasn't de-iced; and it hit the 14th Street Bridge on take off over the Potomac River."
"Oh my God, when did this happen?"
"It's on going now, Pilgrim. Because of snow storming there is only one helicopter trying to save lives over that cold and icy river. The plane was carrying 74 passengers and 5 crew members; only five will survive."
"Wait just one minute Marine, if you say that it is on going now – how is it you already know the outcome?"
"Simper Fi Pilgrim, there's the Gas station!"
The Red Camaro slides to a stop and as the young trekker begins to open his door the driver departs with one last thought – "By the way, once you take that engine apart you'll see that the cardboard gasket to the oil filter cracked due to the low temperatures – that's how and why you lost all of your oil, Pilgrim. Try not to worry about your family. You will make contact with help soon, but you won't see them for 2 hrs."
Ray cold and worried about his family turns to enter a phone booth as the Camaro door closes; the dual exhaust pipes gutturally roll almost like thunder at a distance, and then from the corner of his eye the Red Camaro disappears in a mist, and within that mist the image of a little ballerina echoing sweet and loving laughter. Causing Ray to turn back in disbelief and question how the cold has affected his senses.
The next day, Christmas Day, December 25th, 1970
"Doug, I can't thank you enough for all that you have done; coming up for us last night with Dad and the tow bar. I still can't figure out exactly how it was we lost all the oil."
Darn good thing your favorite mechanic lives across the street, buddy or you'd be looking at triple time on Christmas Day at a highway shop."
Doug is a tall robust young man; slightly over weight and would make a perfect Santa Claus with his blond hair, Red face and tummy like a bowl full of jelly. The only thing that's missing is a laugh that goes ho, ho, ho and a full beard to cover his baby face features. It is Christmas Day, and today Doug would look for any excuse to be away from the wife and kids. There hasn't been much to ho-ho about for a few years now at home and Doug would rather be out of the house than be reminded on the pending break up of his marriage. Besides he loves working on racecars, all the while rebuilding this six-cylinder engine is child's play.
"I don't know when I can pay you for this."
Don't you even mention it Ray," Doug begins; "I'm only sorry we couldn't get to you sooner. The Highway Patrol guys did stop to see after your wife, but the guy told me he slid off the road. That's why you were literally stuck in the cold at that gas station."
"Say Doug, did you hear anything about a plane crash in Washington DC yesterday?"
"Heck no, that would have been all over the news for sure, why do you ask?"
"Hmmm, it must have been colder than I thought up there in the snow. I could have sworn that the Marine who gave me a ride to the gas station told me there was an air disaster."
"Nope. Nothing on the news or in the papers today,"
"Oh, and by the way, Mr. Ray there was nothing you could have done to avoid what happened. The extreme cold temperatures cracked the cardboard seal on your oil filter; and as soon as you got on the freeway the increased compression on your engine poured your oil on to the road. By the time your idiot light turned on, the damage was done."
January 13th, 1982
Ten years later Ray has gone through a painful divorce. The last few years Ray has spent Holidays and Birthdays working rather than being alone. Jim, who has worked closely with Ray administering the functions of a dialysis center at the Orange County medical center, is aware of Ray's loneliness. He decides he needs to go into action before Ray spends his Birthday alone again this year. He talks to his wife.
"Donna, Ray is deeply sensitive and will not discuss how much he's hurting. He's still young and has the ability to rebuild his life. He is intelligent, and a decent young man; and to beat all heck, tomorrow is his Birthday."
"Jim; lets have Ray join us for dinner tomorrow night. You say Ray is like a son to you. So let's throw a family style party like we did with the kids!"
"I'll get out the football foosball game!"
"I'll bake my super duper chocolate triple layer cake!"
"Thanks, baby. Ray means a lot to me. This will be fun."
That night as the dinner plates are cleared and the Birthday cake arrives Jim offers a toast!
"To new beginnings!"
"Here, here!" Donna joins in and they all clink glasses. Donna's cake for Ray is covered with deep rich chocolate and chocolate shavings. It is perhaps the most beautiful cake that Ray has ever seen. He desperately tries not to show his pain as the room fills with misty shades of light from the candle glow.
"So, Ray – how was your Christmas this year?"
Donna, who has often told Jim that the only time he seems to open his mouth is to exchange one foot for another, lightly elbows him.
"Err – ah – what I meant to say is, ah……, We were worried that you spend too much time alone, especially on important days like this."
"Well, this is better than my Christmas was. I worked a double shift."
"Well I'll tell ya Ray, things could be worse."
"Guess your right Jim, things can always be worse."
"Ray, let me tell you a true story about a Christmas, one that Donna and I will never forget. It's made us grateful for what we have ever since then."
It was in 1970. We were on our way home on a rainy Christmas Eve. We came across a car accident. Probably the worse accident we had ever seen. It was in the late afternoon sometime.
"It was exactly three, Jim. My watch stopped when we got out because it was raining like crazy. I'd never seen rain like that before."
"Anyway, we were the first ones to arrive on the scene. Best we could tell the car hydroplaned and the kid lost control and smashed in to the guard rail and then flipped."
"We ran over to him. Jim figured with his medical background he could help."
" But he was already dead by the time I could reach him. I felt so bad to see that poor young man killed. A young marine about twenty-one. There were Christmas packages in the back seat of his car."
"There were packages on top of a Radio Flyer in the back seat of that Red Camaro.
Christmas wrapping and ribbons were scattered across the highway."
Ray in disbelief, "Donna, I'm sorry; say again, what time was it when you and Jim found him?"
"It was three o'clock, the roads weren't even icy where we were driving. I kept the watch. It was a cheap dime-store thing. It just rusted in place. When I look at that I remember you never know when your time is up. So live each moment to the fullest. Right Jim?"
A chill runs up and down the nape of Ray's neck as he sits silently listening to Jim's and Donna's account of the accident involving the Red Camaro and how it was the young man had on a Marine uniform; to come back from war and then to die so close to home on Christmas Eve."
Ray remembers back to a Red Camaro ten years ago on that same night. How deeply grateful he was for the help given him more than ten years earlier, but finds it impossible to speak of what happened. Could there have been two marines bringing a Red Radio Flyer to some kid in San Diego?
There is a long silence. Then a loud ring of the telephone breaks into the room. Donna answers the phone.
"Yes, hello – oh hello Bruce, what dear? – oh my heavens."
Jim, quickly dear, turn on the Television – something dreadful has happened!"
The plane crash! Ray's memory flashes back to a gas station, the Red Camaro, the marine who not only told him how his car broke, but about a mysterious plane wreck. This plane wreck, more than ten years later! And how could this Marine be giving Ray a ride when he was found dead by Jim and Donna at the exact same time?
Ray stares out the window. The windows are steamed up with brewing coffee in the nearby kitchen. As he ponders all these strange facts his eye catches something just outside the window. In the moonlight just beyond the misty window Ray catches what looks like a little ballerina twirling in circles and throwing her hands over her head in glee. Ray is not sure but thinks maybe he can hear an echoing sweet and lovely laughter. The phone rings again and Ray looks away toward the kitchen. When he looks back nothing is there.
Ray walks down a highway about to be touched by fate in a Red Camaro. More than 10 years will pass before he learns what really happened on this mystifying Christmas Eve.
The winter sky is dark. The temperature drops. The snow has been falling for hours covering the hills and their trees with icy white powder. Interstate 5 is near closure. The snowplows have been working diligently to help travelers reach their homes. California's infamous Grapevine closes at its summit of 5000 feet nearly every January, but this year it will be closed by Christmas Eve.
In the midst of falling snow and building traffic, a car suddenly veers to the right as the engine stops, it's nearly 3 pm. The driver, a young man barely 22 years of age, tries not to alarm the passengers: his young wife and her 13 year old brother. He proceeds to lift the hood of the car, projecting confidence with a seemingly knowledgeable furrowed brow. Thoroughly he examines the mechanical workings of the simple six-cylinder engine. This is the third time today he has checked the vehicle's fluid levels, but this time there is absolutely no oil on the dip-stick.
"I'm going to the nearest phone and call for help," Says the young man to his family.
"What's wrong with the car?" his wife asks.
"Somehow we have lost all the oil."
"Shouldn't we go with you?"
"The temperature is dropping; I think you will be warmer in the car with blankets than walking with me in the snow. I won't be long."
An agreement is made with promises of help to be summoned as rapidly as possible. The young husband begins his trek. His family watches him walk down the highway.
Just as Ray turns out of view, a Red Camaro slows down along side him. The driver offers help. The cold air vibrates with the welcoming words.
"Hey there pilgrim, I bet you could use a ride. Let me take you to the next Gas Station." Ray looks into the car and sees a young pale-faced Marine.
"You are an absolute life saver! Yes. Please. And thank you!"
Though well dressed with what seemed like a heavy coat before his hike, Ray is glad to be in a warm car. He had forgotten his gloves, but reaches out a numb hand and enthusiastically shakes the marine's hand.
It is 3 PM by the clock on the dash of the Red Camaro. The young men grasp in a handshake of friendship as if they had known each other for years. Ray barely notices just how cold the young Marine's hands are. He is too busy rubbing his own hands together near the floor heater vent. The Red Camaro slings rapidly back into traffic headed south towards the nearest Gas Station. The back seat of the marine's car is packed with wrapped Christmas gifts all sitting on top and around a Red Radio Flyer.
"You couldn't have stopped at a better time Marine. So where are you headed?"
"I'm on my way to San Diego to be with my family, been driving since way early this morning from Frisco."
"San Francisco eh, you must have decided to avoid the 101 in order to make better time."
"That's a ten four. So what happened with your car, Pilgrim?"
"It's the most miserable thing I have ever seen, I specifically checked the oil before we left and then twice again before getting on the freeway. I checked all of the fluid levels but was mostly concerned about the radiator freezing. We were on the highway headed south when the engine begins to vibrate violently and then suddenly nothing. The engine stops and we coast to a standstill. I check the radiator and all seems well, the battery is fully charged, but then I check the oil, and it is bone dry."
"Anyone back in the car now, Pilgrim?"
"My wife and her younger brother."
"Well, to be honest with you, I rightly don't know where the nearest Gas Station might be, and there seems to be no immediate way to turn back. I hope they'll be all right"
"My family has the blankets from the trunk of the car and some candles. Just how far do you think we have already driven?"
"It's been about 10 miles since I picked you up."
"Hmmm, didn't think the nearest Gas station was this far. How much further you think it might be"
"Might be another 10 miles or so, Pilgrim. Let's hope we can find that gas station sooner rather than later."
"I plan on calling the Highway Patrol first thing, so they can check on the family. I want them to tell my wife and brother-in-law that I am OK, and that help will be on the way to them soon. What a miserable Christmas eve."
"Well, I'll tell ya Pilgrim, things could be worse."
"Guess your right, things can always be worse."
"Did you see what happened on a Bridge over the Potomac today?
"No, the car radio lost its reception just as we got on the freeway and I haven't been near a TV."
"Seems that a plane headed for Florida from Washington wasn't de-iced; and it hit the 14th Street Bridge on take off over the Potomac River."
"Oh my God, when did this happen?"
"It's on going now, Pilgrim. Because of snow storming there is only one helicopter trying to save lives over that cold and icy river. The plane was carrying 74 passengers and 5 crew members; only five will survive."
"Wait just one minute Marine, if you say that it is on going now – how is it you already know the outcome?"
"Simper Fi Pilgrim, there's the Gas station!"
The Red Camaro slides to a stop and as the young trekker begins to open his door the driver departs with one last thought – "By the way, once you take that engine apart you'll see that the cardboard gasket to the oil filter cracked due to the low temperatures – that's how and why you lost all of your oil, Pilgrim. Try not to worry about your family. You will make contact with help soon, but you won't see them for 2 hrs."
Ray cold and worried about his family turns to enter a phone booth as the Camaro door closes; the dual exhaust pipes gutturally roll almost like thunder at a distance, and then from the corner of his eye the Red Camaro disappears in a mist, and within that mist the image of a little ballerina echoing sweet and loving laughter. Causing Ray to turn back in disbelief and question how the cold has affected his senses.
The next day, Christmas Day, December 25th, 1970
"Doug, I can't thank you enough for all that you have done; coming up for us last night with Dad and the tow bar. I still can't figure out exactly how it was we lost all the oil."
Darn good thing your favorite mechanic lives across the street, buddy or you'd be looking at triple time on Christmas Day at a highway shop."
Doug is a tall robust young man; slightly over weight and would make a perfect Santa Claus with his blond hair, Red face and tummy like a bowl full of jelly. The only thing that's missing is a laugh that goes ho, ho, ho and a full beard to cover his baby face features. It is Christmas Day, and today Doug would look for any excuse to be away from the wife and kids. There hasn't been much to ho-ho about for a few years now at home and Doug would rather be out of the house than be reminded on the pending break up of his marriage. Besides he loves working on racecars, all the while rebuilding this six-cylinder engine is child's play.
"I don't know when I can pay you for this."
Don't you even mention it Ray," Doug begins; "I'm only sorry we couldn't get to you sooner. The Highway Patrol guys did stop to see after your wife, but the guy told me he slid off the road. That's why you were literally stuck in the cold at that gas station."
"Say Doug, did you hear anything about a plane crash in Washington DC yesterday?"
"Heck no, that would have been all over the news for sure, why do you ask?"
"Hmmm, it must have been colder than I thought up there in the snow. I could have sworn that the Marine who gave me a ride to the gas station told me there was an air disaster."
"Nope. Nothing on the news or in the papers today,"
"Oh, and by the way, Mr. Ray there was nothing you could have done to avoid what happened. The extreme cold temperatures cracked the cardboard seal on your oil filter; and as soon as you got on the freeway the increased compression on your engine poured your oil on to the road. By the time your idiot light turned on, the damage was done."
January 13th, 1982
Ten years later Ray has gone through a painful divorce. The last few years Ray has spent Holidays and Birthdays working rather than being alone. Jim, who has worked closely with Ray administering the functions of a dialysis center at the Orange County medical center, is aware of Ray's loneliness. He decides he needs to go into action before Ray spends his Birthday alone again this year. He talks to his wife.
"Donna, Ray is deeply sensitive and will not discuss how much he's hurting. He's still young and has the ability to rebuild his life. He is intelligent, and a decent young man; and to beat all heck, tomorrow is his Birthday."
"Jim; lets have Ray join us for dinner tomorrow night. You say Ray is like a son to you. So let's throw a family style party like we did with the kids!"
"I'll get out the football foosball game!"
"I'll bake my super duper chocolate triple layer cake!"
"Thanks, baby. Ray means a lot to me. This will be fun."
That night as the dinner plates are cleared and the Birthday cake arrives Jim offers a toast!
"To new beginnings!"
"Here, here!" Donna joins in and they all clink glasses. Donna's cake for Ray is covered with deep rich chocolate and chocolate shavings. It is perhaps the most beautiful cake that Ray has ever seen. He desperately tries not to show his pain as the room fills with misty shades of light from the candle glow.
"So, Ray – how was your Christmas this year?"
Donna, who has often told Jim that the only time he seems to open his mouth is to exchange one foot for another, lightly elbows him.
"Err – ah – what I meant to say is, ah……, We were worried that you spend too much time alone, especially on important days like this."
"Well, this is better than my Christmas was. I worked a double shift."
"Well I'll tell ya Ray, things could be worse."
"Guess your right Jim, things can always be worse."
"Ray, let me tell you a true story about a Christmas, one that Donna and I will never forget. It's made us grateful for what we have ever since then."
It was in 1970. We were on our way home on a rainy Christmas Eve. We came across a car accident. Probably the worse accident we had ever seen. It was in the late afternoon sometime.
"It was exactly three, Jim. My watch stopped when we got out because it was raining like crazy. I'd never seen rain like that before."
"Anyway, we were the first ones to arrive on the scene. Best we could tell the car hydroplaned and the kid lost control and smashed in to the guard rail and then flipped."
"We ran over to him. Jim figured with his medical background he could help."
" But he was already dead by the time I could reach him. I felt so bad to see that poor young man killed. A young marine about twenty-one. There were Christmas packages in the back seat of his car."
"There were packages on top of a Radio Flyer in the back seat of that Red Camaro.
Christmas wrapping and ribbons were scattered across the highway."
Ray in disbelief, "Donna, I'm sorry; say again, what time was it when you and Jim found him?"
"It was three o'clock, the roads weren't even icy where we were driving. I kept the watch. It was a cheap dime-store thing. It just rusted in place. When I look at that I remember you never know when your time is up. So live each moment to the fullest. Right Jim?"
A chill runs up and down the nape of Ray's neck as he sits silently listening to Jim's and Donna's account of the accident involving the Red Camaro and how it was the young man had on a Marine uniform; to come back from war and then to die so close to home on Christmas Eve."
Ray remembers back to a Red Camaro ten years ago on that same night. How deeply grateful he was for the help given him more than ten years earlier, but finds it impossible to speak of what happened. Could there have been two marines bringing a Red Radio Flyer to some kid in San Diego?
There is a long silence. Then a loud ring of the telephone breaks into the room. Donna answers the phone.
"Yes, hello – oh hello Bruce, what dear? – oh my heavens."
Jim, quickly dear, turn on the Television – something dreadful has happened!"
The plane crash! Ray's memory flashes back to a gas station, the Red Camaro, the marine who not only told him how his car broke, but about a mysterious plane wreck. This plane wreck, more than ten years later! And how could this Marine be giving Ray a ride when he was found dead by Jim and Donna at the exact same time?
Ray stares out the window. The windows are steamed up with brewing coffee in the nearby kitchen. As he ponders all these strange facts his eye catches something just outside the window. In the moonlight just beyond the misty window Ray catches what looks like a little ballerina twirling in circles and throwing her hands over her head in glee. Ray is not sure but thinks maybe he can hear an echoing sweet and lovely laughter. The phone rings again and Ray looks away toward the kitchen. When he looks back nothing is there.
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