Sometimes a Plug Can Help Fill the Gaps

My first impulse was not to write this. I’ll tell you upfront it’s a variation of the Good Samaritan tale that we’ve all read before. Nice to know about, but not fresh ground.

Now, I’m thinking I must write it. I’m thinking I have a cosmic duty to pull my weight by telling you about what happened Sunday afternoon on my way to L.A.

I was on the 405 when I felt that rumbling in the car you never want to feel. The hope that an uneven stretch of pavement was causing it quickly gave way to dread as it became clear the car was operating on three tires. I kept my wits just enough to navigate from a middle lane to the shoulder of the freeway. I got out to survey the damage, and what fine damage it was.

Where moments earlier there had been a rear left tire, there was nothing but a rim. The entire tire had blown off.

Most adults can handle such crises. Not me. And unless you’re as helpless as I am in such situations -- for example, was the doughnut spare even applicable? No matter, because I didn’t have the tools to install it -- you can’t relate to the forlornness out there by yourself. It’s made all the worse by people whizzing past, three feet away from you, at 70 mph.

I understand reality, however, so I was about to trek to a callbox when a car made a quick braking move onto the shoulder in front of my car. A guy got out of an ’86 white Pontiac.

I was surprised then, and still am in thinking about it again, at what relief I felt just having another person on the scene.

I went into my helpless act -- except it’s no act -- and he cheerfully set about replacing the tire with my spare. Luckily, he had both a wrench and another tool needed to operate my jack.

When he finished, I gave him $40, hoping it was fair. I gave it gladly, partly for his good humor but mostly because he hadn’t asked for a cent. I asked his first name. He said it was Manuel and he gave me a card for his mobile deejay business.

OK ... I realize that there are nice people in the world.

But I decided to call Manuel a couple days later to ask why he stopped. If only because it’s so easy not to stop.

He said his name is Manuel Marquez, he’s 25 and lives in Long Beach. Besides his sporadic deejay business, he washes linens in a laundry. Helping me wasn’t the first time he’d aided a stranded driver, he said.

“It feels bad when you’re out there and nobody helps you out,” he said. “It’s happened to me. You have no money, no nothing, you’re wishing somebody would help you and nobody does.”

I confessed that I think those thoughts but still don’t stop. I told him what made me happiest, aside from seeing a friendly face, was that he didn’t ask for money.

“I like to be helping,” he said. “They say, ‘Help somebody, don’t expect nothing, but later God is going to help you.’ I’ll be honest with you, you helped me out a lot. When you gave me the money, I only had $10 in my pocket. That was for the rest of the week. I used the money you gave me on my bills.”

But even that isn’t why I’m writing this. This is:

Was he amused I couldn’t change a tire? No, he said: There are some things in life that certain people can do; there are other things that other people know how to do. It balances out.

Not to be overly woo-woo about it, but I think Manuel means we all have gaps in our lives. The world works best when we help fill in the gaps for each other.

So, in the way he helped a guy out by changing a tire next to speeding cars on the freeway, I’m telling you about his deejay business and will give his phone number if you want it.

He didn’t ask for the plug.

It’s simple: he did his thing; I’m doing mine.

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Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays. He can be reached at (714) 966-7821, at [email protected] or at The Times’ Orange County edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, CA 92626.