I once met guardian angels from Heaven.
In December of 2009, I drove home to Ohio for the Christmas holiday. Having come from a large family of eight children, six made it home for the holidays. Unfortunately, one of them apparently carried a nasty flu bug into Mom’s humble home.
On the morning of Wednesday, December 30th, I said goodbye to Mom and lugged my overnight bag to the car. I departed for the 12-hour drive back to South Carolina in a light snow fall — and feeling just fine.
As I crossed the Ohio River, I started to feel sick, and things rapidly deteriorated on the West Virginia turnpike. There, while decelerating for a toll booth, I threw up on myself and momentarily blacked out. Consequently, I side-swiped the car on my left before regaining consciousness and recovering control of the vehicle.
We both pulled over to the shoulder, where we traded the obligatory insurance information. Damage was minor to the two cars, so we decided to continue on our way.
I paid the toll and continued south, but only felt worse as I continued to drive. So I decided to take the next exit, stop at the first gas station or convenience store I saw, and buy something to drink. The last thing I remember was parking my car, exiting and walking toward the front door.
The next thing I knew, I was sitting at a booth in the convenience store’s restaurant. Standing before me was an elderly woman, a man in his 30s, and three members of the local emergency medical team. Evidently, the woman and her son had found my body on the pavement and called 911.
While I sat drinking orange juice somebody had given me, I tried to gather my wits about me. Meanwhile, my body ached from head to toe, and my stomach was doing somersaults.
Together, we came up with a plan. The woman drove me to the Ramada Inn across the road, while her son followed us in my car there. Under their guidance, I got a room for the night, and the mother and son escorted me to that room. Before they departed, they briefed the staff at the front desk.
After a long night, I awoke the next morning feeling great.
To this day, I have no idea who the mother and son were. I have no idea where they live. All I remember was that their car had Kentucky plates. I’ve never heard from these kind strangers since the event, and probably never will.
They truly were guardian angels from Heaven.
John M. Scanlan
Hilton Head Island, South Carolina
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