Yellow Hummer

"THE YELLOW HUMMER MYSTERY" - January, 2005

The shore and the sand looked so inviting! The seventy miles of undeveloped beach of the National Seashore of North Padre Island (Texas) called to us like a siren’s song. So, one overcast afternoon, we answered. We unhitched the little gray Ford Escort we towed behind our motor home, and drove down onto the beach to explore.

The tourist information had warned us that 2-wheel drive vehicles should stay within the first five miles on the sandy beach. Four-wheel drive would be required beyond that point which was clearly marked, the brochure assured us.

Keeping an eye out for that promised sign, we started down the beach. We were amazed at the number of RV’s – some of them sizeable! – which had set up camp on the sand near the water’s edge. "What do they do at high tide?" we wondered to each other.

The water fowl were thick, varied, beautiful and tantalizingly close! We watched as gulls circled and swooped above us, crying raucously. An occasional pelican caught a tasty treat with a quick dive. Sandpipers strutted at the water’s edge. Herons and egrets stretched their long legs and necks to fish farther out into the waves. And everywhere, birds we couldn’t name, flocked above us, beside us and ahead of us, on down the beach.

We’d seen no sign directing us to turn around, but the sand was getting deeper. Suddenly, we were stuck! The wheels spun, throwing sand behind us in clouds. But the undercarriage of our trusty little toad was helplessly hung up on a hidden mound of the grainy stuff. We could not move: -- not forward, not backward, not sideways!

The sky was clouding up as quickly as our mood while we surveyed the situation. Ahead of us, about a quarter of a mile on down the beach, one more motor home was visible, snugly settled into a long-term camp site. Bruce took off toward it, walking slowly through the deep, loose sand. Perhaps they might have a vehicle and tow rope to rescue us!

Meanwhile, as the clouds grew darker, I stayed with the stranded car. Suddenly, the roar of a powerful vehicle could be heard in the distance from behind. The sound grew steadily louder as a mustard-yellow Hummer approached our little beach-bogged Ford at breakneck speed!

In self-defense, I opened the door of the little gray car and stepped out. Would such movement cause the Hummer’s driver to swerve and avoid the rear-end collision which seemed inevitable? At what seemed like the last moment possible, the Hummer skidded to the right, spraying our little Escort with a new layer of sand, and sped on down the beach without slowing.

Suddenly, a few yards ahead, the Hummer lurched to a dead stop, and backed up until it was beside our forlorn little Ford. The driver surveyed the situation with bleary eyes, and called down from the cab of his truck, "You got a problem, Lady?"

"Yes," I admitted, "we do have a bit of a problem. We’re stuck. But my husband has gone on down the beach to try to get help."

There was a long pause. Then, as if it required a great effort on his part, the sullen-faced driver climbed unsteadily down from the seat of his impressive vehicle and mumbled, "Well, mebbe’ I can help."

He went to the back of his truck and began rummaging there for a tow rope. A deep barking echoed up and down the beach as the head of an enormous tan dog stretched out the Hummer’s tailgate to welcome the man’s approach. I kept my distance from his fierce canine friend, remaining on the far side of my car. "Oh, don’t worry ‘bout my dog. He wouldn’t hurt nobody," he said reassuringly as he pulled a tow rope out of jumble of tools he was carrying. Nevertheless, I kept my car between us!

"It’s very kind of you to take the time to stop and give us a hand," I said. "Oh," he mumbled, "I wasn’t doin’ nothing. Jus’ come down here to get away from folks."

"And here we are, disturbing your peace and quiet," I responded as he attached the tow rope to the front of our stranded little car. "We’re mighty thankful for your help," I added.

"I always got time to help somebody," he said as he climbed back up into the driver’s seat of his big yellow Hummer. In the blink of an eye, he had our little car pulled loose from its sandy prison, just as Bruce came back up the beach without the help he had hoped for.

We thanked our Good Samaritan again and climbed back into our car. "I’ll follow to make sure ya’ get back to the road OK," he said. But, as we got on our way and turned around to wave, we saw the tailgate of the mustard-yellow Hummer rapidly disappearing down the beach in the opposite direction.

It was a strange encounter which left us wondering about our rescuer. "What did he mean when he said he ‘came down here to get away from folks’?" "Was he driving so fast because he was running from something – or someone?" "Why did he look so distant and appear a bit confused?" "Why did he bother to stop to help us if he was trying ‘to get away from folks’?" "Why did he say he would follow us and then go the opposite way?"

But we soon got involved in other activities and forgot about the yellow Hummer, its mysterious driver and his formidable canine companion. Later that evening, our questions came back to haunt us.

We were headed back toward our campsite after sunset as the dark shadows of dusk crept over the surrounding landscape. The road curved and criss-crossed through the marshes and cattail swamps like a snake slithering toward safety. Far ahead of us, around several curves, we could see the flashing red and blue lights of sheriff’s cars stopped beside the road. As we approached slowly, we saw a huge tan dog bounding out of the marshes toward the road. Behind the dog were two police officers forcefully escorting a man toward one of the waiting patrol cars.

Now we were curious, and slowed to a near stop. In the glow of our headlights, we could see a mustard yellow Hummer mired in the marsh. It had missed the curve, gone off the road and run up to its axles in the mud of the marsh!

We continued on our way home, but with new questions: "What had happened?" "Was the man drunk or high on something, causing him to go off the road?" "Or were the police pursuing him because of something he had done?" The answers to these questions were really none of our business, we decided, but we did owe him something in his time of need.

We turned around and returned to the parked police cruisers. Our yellow Hummer Samaritan, wearing handcuffs, was seated in the back of one of them. "That’s the people I helped," he said to the officer as we approached the patrol car.

The officer greeted us with a courteous "May I help you?" "Well," Bruce replied, "I’m not sure, but perhaps we can help you. We don’t know what this man has done that you have taken him into custody – and we don’t want to know. We just want to put in a good word for him. This afternoon, when our car got stuck in the sand down on the beach, this man stopped to help us. He pulled us out and got us on our way. We just wanted you to know that we are very grateful for his help."

"Thank you for telling us that, Sir," the officer replied. And with a smart salute to us, he pulled the patrol car slowly into the road. We watched as it carried the driver of the mustard yellow Hummer – and the answers to all our questions – toward the nearby security building.

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