Vegginator II -- The Journey North Day 1

Rachel and I began our trip with a drive east along the Gulf coast to Biloxi, Mississippi. Along the way the evidence of Katrina's damage continued -- entire blocks, malls, and industrial building empty and boarded up. But unlike the 9th Ward in NOLA, the rebuilding along the coast seems to be progressing. The tone was set by a sign on the way to the East Bay Bridge -- "Halleluyah! The Bridge is open!" It's a pretty nice bridge, too. But, the bridge in Biloxi is still closed, so we took our cue and headed north.

Later that day, on I65 in Alabama, we spotted someone by a car on the shoulder waving fairly desperately for help. We pulled over and met Quon, who asked us if we had any oil (of course, we had a trunkfull, but he needed motor oil, not vegetable oil). He said his red light had come on, with acoompanying smoke and overheating (oops). I was at first reluctant to get too involved, but we couldn't strand him. The state troopers were all otherwise engaged with a massive speed trap one exit south, and couldn't be counted on. So we offered to take him to the next exit, hoping that he'd connect with a tow truck to get out of there.

At the service station, he practically begged us to give him a ride back, and since we had no real itinerary, we figured we could spare the time. He first came out with one container of oil, so I sent him back in for 2 more (red light, remember?). We piled back in the Vegginator and headed south. Quon wanted to get out across from his car and walk (run?) across the highway to it, but I kept moving, to avoid the carnage. At the next exit, I stopped to interrupt the troopers and let them know what was up -- maybe they could take a break from ruining people's days and do a little serving with all that protecting. They said sure thing, and off we went north to get Quon back to his car.

A bit south of the car, still, we weresurprised by a HUGE cloud of dust ahead, followed by lots of brakelights and swerving. Turns out we were about 50 yards short of witnessing not one but two SUVs in a joint rollover. I'm only flip about it because everyone got out okay, but it was a horrific crash -- clothing and stuff strewn all over the highway, and both cars totalled, I'm sure. They were on their sides about 15 yards apart in the median strip, with both roofs completely smashed in.

Quon, meantime, is worried that it was his car, but we reassurred him. After checking that everyone was out of the SUVs safely, we continued on up the road. (editorial comment -- I'll assume that the occupants are thankful that they were in SUVs and could survive the rollover. duh.)

Back at Quon's car we have to fight him off as he tries to throw a $20 bill in the back seat. I even showed him the trunk full of veg to prove that we were driving for free. I think it shocked him enough to calm him down. We took a picture shook hands and headed on our way. I hope he made it. Quon, by the way, is from Viet Nam, and lives in Alanta. He's been here 18 years, and his last car never burned any oil, so he's not in the habit of checking.

I could do this road trip for another month, just to keep meeting these people. What a treat.