Adventures in Pre-Easter Transit

Everyone hears about small towns. They know about small towns. They know people that come from small towns. Everybody has that one person they know that describes his or her town as the smallest, Podunkiest, most uncivilized town in the U.S., slightly poking fun at his/her homestead's puniness, while also taking the simplest pride in the quirkiness or relative unknownness of his or her community.
One hears about these towns that are not even on the map. They are miles away from any nearby city and host settlers that choose not to congregate in a large populous area, be it due to occupation (agriculture, mostly), or property, or mere instinct or choice. These folks rest up in their homes, have their dogs and cats and wives and husbands and children. They enjoy life in their small towns, not worrying about the fuss and complications associated with multitudes of people. And all these people talk about that one local hangout spot that is the center of their town; the one spot where everyone goes to if they need anything or if they want anything. They can go here to stock up on groceries, rent movies, get the paper, get their cigarettes (or chewing tobacco, if they choose). They go to the place where they will undoubtedly run into their friends or neighbors and talk to them about nothing for hours. They go to the place where it all comes together. Of course, the place in these small towns that I'm talking about is the gas station.
Every town has a gas station. When you talk about small towns, people might talk about whether they have any movie theaters or if they have a Wal*Mart. But when it gets down to really small towns, the smallness of the town is measured in amount of stoplights and the ratio of cattle to people. But anybody in any small town has at least that gas station, and in some cases, it's all they have. I can't remember the number of times I've heard people tell me about their small towns and they describe it as, "All we have is a gas station." And that's it. That's all they have. That gas station is the staple to their social fiber, the link to the outside world, and, in a small Podunk way, paradise. That gas station is a necessity, because without it, life would be hopeless.

When I was on my way home from school prior to Easter this year, I made a small quest to get as far as I could driving without filling up on gas. And I did just that. I got to about forty miles outside my hometown when I realized I had to pull over at the next available place so that I could make it the rest of the way. And I was worried sick. I was getting very anxious as the red line drew closer and closer to the ominous-looking white bar which more and more turned out to be gauging the amount of time before I dialed my phone asking for help.
The interstate highway system has very helpful signage that allows one to take a look at their choices in food, gas, and lodging before actually taking the next step to finding what one needs. This is a luxury that not many countries with highway systems have and is not one we as Americans should take for granted. But at the point where I was, B.F.E., the sign at the next exit did not have any specific choices. It merely had directional arrows for the necessities of food, gas, and lodging. Not having any choice but to GET GAS NOW, I went for the closest outlet I could find, which was four miles from the interstate, making me even more nervous than I already was.

The quest for gas when you are about to run out is such a predicament. It is unlike any other quest that involves obtaining a need. Of course the biggest question when in this situation is, "Do I drive fast, or do I drive slow?" There is of course two logical answers for the question, which proves that you shouldn't be asking it anyway, but just concentrating on whether or not you can find a gas station. If you drive fast, you burn fuel quicker, but you also get to where you need to go quicker, provided you can find where you are going. It also gives you a higher initial cruising velocity, should you actually run out of gas. If you drive slow, you burn fuel slower, giving you more time to find your destination, but you also have poorer fuel economy. It really is a double-edged sword, and either way, if you don't find that gas station soon, you're in trouble.

So I land in Griggsville, Illinois, and thoughts reminisce in my head about playing their high school team in Quiz Bowl and how such a small town can even have a high school. But nevertheless, I found that town and I quickly found the center of it, which was the gas station. Two, actually, one across the street from the other. I arrived and spent my last seven bucks on three and a quarter gallons of gas, which was enough to get me home, and I walked into the gas station, used the john and got on my way. But, being in the gas station, I couldn't help but notice the movies in the corner, the tables with scattered newspaper and expired cigarettes littering them, the small aisles of groceries, and it made me realize that this was, in fact, the center of town. This was one of those gas stations in one of those towns that was the one thing holding it all together. And ironically, the one thing that keeps the town together is the peddling of the one thing that drives people away. The gas.
After I paid for my gas and bid the clerk goodnight, she replied, "Have a good night." I was walking out the door when I heard this, and it didn't come through too clearly, but it almost sounded like she had said, "Saved your life." This really struck me, and as I drove home, back through the little Podunk town, back on to the ramp to the highway, and all the way home to my little Podunk town, I wasn't worried. I'll never know if Griggsville, IL, really did save my life, but I sure learned the importance of that small town and the people in it. And if nothing else, it allowed me to get home safely to my family and friends so I could celebrate Easter.
God works in mysterious ways, and on this drunken, philosophical, and very memorable Holy Saturday night, or Easter Eve, I can only say one thing, and that is, "Happy Resurrection, Jesus!"