The recent Lake Shore Drive snowstorm tie-up reminds me of my experience I had with the good Chicago folks near Christmas in 1952. Three other GI’s and myself were heading home on Christmas leave after completing Cook and Baker school at Fort Sheridan, and reporting back to our home base in Camp Atterbury, Ind.
It was a very cold, drizzly rain falling (at dusk) as we were on the inside lane. The 1947 red Oldsmobile convertible I was driving backfired once and rolled to a stop. It was bumper-to-bumper traffic on all lanes, so there was no way I could coast to a stop out of the traffic. We got out and tried to flag traffic, but realizing how dangerous standing on that little strip of median was, we got back into the car. I saw two police cars pass that didn’t even see us. I heard a crash, and when I got out to look, a car with the whole front end caved in was behind us. There was not a scratch on my car. The guy driving said the car he hit swung out in traffic and kept going. A little later a chauffeur-driven limousine hit him. Finally a tow truck arrived and towed the car and at the same time pushed me to a garage. The garage was closed and a young couple who said they were originally from Virginia took us to their apartment and gave us coffee and sandwiches. (I often wished I had remembered their names for this kindness.)
As I recall, we went back to the car about 1 a.m. and waited in the car for the garage to open. When it opened the next morning, they started work immediately. They thought it was the carburetor and put a new one on. That wasn’t the problem, but they finally traced it to a small pinhole in the gas line back near the gas tank. After working on that car three or four hours they charged me a total of $12, and even left the carburetor on. I was 19 then, I am now 78 years old and as each year passed my appreciation kept growing and growing as I realized what those Chicago folks had done for four young PFC’s with very little money. Looking back, I don’t think I ever received a better Christmas present.
— Richard Hottinger, Phenix City, Ala.
