Sleeping With A Stranger

 

Sometimes our best laid plans go strangely and dangerously awry. What should have been an easy four-hour trip from Spokane, WA to Missoula, MT aboard a comfortable Greyhound bus turned into an epic journey full of scary adventures and wild experiences for me.

The skies were blue and there was about six inches of new snow on the ground that day, Dec. 7th, 2012, as Dan and I drove to Post Falls, Idaho to attend our annual Christmas luncheon for the pastors and wives in our district. I was excited and looking forward to the day because at the end of it, I was going to see Cade and Vicki and our granddaughter, Cassidy Grace. She was a little over 3 months old and they’d decided to dedicate her to the Lord in their church on Sunday. This was Friday.

Since Dan couldn’t attend, and since our daughter, Sherry, and granddaughter, Candace, were driving from Billings, MT to attend the dedication as well, we thought I could take the bus over the mountain, and Sherry could drive me home and spend several days with us. And so our plans were made.

The day went as expected until we arrived at the bus depot and discovered that the bus would be late getting in due to a massive storm that blew in from the west and was traveling east faster than the bus. They had already been laid over in several towns waiting for the storm to pass.

I thought, “Well, that’s okay. So I get in a little late. I won’t miss the dedication anyway.” The bus finally arrived. I told Dan good-bye, checked my bags, and got onboard. It was the first time in many years that I’d traveled by bus, and as we sped through the darkness out of Spokane, I thought how cool it was that the ride was so smooth and that I didn’t have to drive!

Our bus driver was an older gentleman, very friendly, yet he was tired and said he’d almost gone over his allotted twelve hours of driving time due to the storm he’d already faced coming over Snoqualmie Pass from Seattle.

These were little warning signs, but I settled back in my seat, turned on the little lamp above my head, and did some reading. I hadn’t paid too much attention to the other passengers. They were what you would expect, an older lady maybe around my age who sat across the aisle ahead of me and kept up a steady stream of conversation with the gentleman directly in front of me. There were some unsavory looking men behind me, but they behaved themselves and seemed content. There were ten or twelve young people, maybe going home from school, maybe visiting friends. A mother with three children in tow came next. There were several young men who, while not rowdy, still were not the kind I would hang out with on our stops, and a young couple that I didn’t think were old enough to be out on their own.

We made our first stop in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho, and when we got off, the bus driver told us we might not be able to continue as he said there was a bad storm ahead over the pass. It seemed we were there a long time but at last the driver returned, got in his seat, and we were off.

Once again he warned us that we might not make it that night. It always gives you a funny feeling in the pit of your stomach when you are informed of such a fact. Where would we stay? How could I get to Missoula? Would I be late for the dedication?

We made it past Kellogg, Idaho, and then we got into trouble. The first clue was that there was hardly any other traffic on the freeway. The driver slowed the bus to a crawl and put the right tire on the shoulder. The lady who was sitting in the first row talked to him as he drove. He explained that he’d driven bus across the state from Washington and into Montana for over thirty years and he’d never seen the road so bad as it was that night.

It doesn’t give you much confidence when the bus driver tells you that. We all knew he wanted to stop, but where could he stop? If he did, we would be stuck there alongside the road in a cold bus until morning, and that was not something we wanted to consider.

Slowly we crept down the freeway, passing the occasional little town or gas station. I was no longer reading. I was praying like mad. Topping out over Look-Out Pass, we started down the other side and the road conditions worsened. We were supposed to get into Missoula at 6pm and now it was already 8pm. By the time we got to St. Regis at 10 pm, we were all glad to get off the bus and go into the store, hoping that we could continue our journey soon.

But it was not to be. The driver’s time had expired. He could not drive the bus another minute or he would be breaking the law. He spent the next two hours on the phone, calling every official in the Greyhound Bus Line business, asking for help. The road conditions between St. Regis and Missoula were as bad if not worse than what we’d just endured, and they were not sending out another bus that night.

There was a Super 8 Motel just across the way and I suggested several times that we all stay there until morning. Finally that is what he decided to do. But there weren’t enough rooms for each of us to have our own individual one — we would have to share.

I will never forget how he walked down the aisle that night as we sat in the bus and pointed to pairs of people. “You and you.” “You and you.” “You and you.” We were evenly matched except for three guys who had to share one room. Forty-three of us! I thanked God for that older lady in the first row. She would be my “bunky”. Praise God! I also praised God for the fact that there were two beds in each room, and that the driver allowed me to get my suitcase.

I guess there are pretty stringent rules that Greyhound has for such occasions. The driver listed them off for us in his best “school-marm” fashion. “No drinking. Not even during the evening before you go to bed. If I know you drank, or smell alcohol on you, you will not get on this bus in the morning. No one is sleeping together unless you are married. That means you,” he pointed to the teen-age couple who were clinging together. “Have a good night. I will help you get signed in.”

My room-mate was a pleasant lady. She didn’t spend much time in the room, though. Soon after we got there, she took off for the casino with the gentleman across the aisle. I don’t know when she returned, but it was early in the morning. The teen-age girl with the boyfriend threw a big hissy fit because she couldn’t sleep with him. She sat on the floor in the hall outside my room and bawled and screamed and cried for the better part of an hour. The driver, like a den mother, comforted her, called her mother and explained, and was sweet and patient with her. I was impressed. If it had been me, I’d have told her to grow up. But I didn’t have to say it because she finally accepted her fate and slept with her assigned room-mate.

We made it into Missoula the next day around noon. The driver had to put chains on the bus and we could only go 45 mph the whole way. As we disembarked the bus, we felt like we’d known each other for the better part of our lives. It’s funny what adverse situations can do to a group of strangers.

And the dedication? Little Cassidy did well and so did her parents. We took tons of pictures and Cassidy wowed them all with her smile, her charm, and her sweet personality.

 

What did I learn from this experience? Here are three things to take home with you:

1. When with strangers, don’t be strange. Take off your armor, lay your weapons down, cleanse your mind of pre-conceived ways of judging people, and have a good time, even if you are stuck in a bus on the way to Missoula, MT during a storm. Talk. Share. Laugh. Listen. You MIGHT learn something or make a new friend.

2. When life throws a curve ball and things don’t go as you planned, trust God. He will provide, protect, guide and give you wisdom if only you will turn to Him. I am convinced the bus driver that night was a sort of guardian angel protecting those under his care. You can laugh if you want, because angels don’t usually come as stocky older gentlemen in Greyhound bus uniforms, but I know God was with us that night and He used that man to get us safely to Missoula. Trust God. It never hurts and it keeps you from getting grey hairs. “In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will give you the desires of your heart.” Prov. 3:5,6

3. When life gets tough or scary, slow down and put your right tire on the shoulder. A little rest never hurt anyone. Take a walk or a nap. Get your eyes off your problems and fix them on Jesus. “Fixing our eyes on Jesus, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” Heb. 12: 2  Sit down. Rest in Him. Find your joy in Him.

Even if the road is icy and the sky is dark and joy seems impossible, He will give you the desires of your heart as He did for me the night I slept with a stranger.