A few hours before I pulled out of the driveway, Vince volunteered to go with me to Indy to move the kids and the furniture. I had called every mover I could find. Nobody would move me for less than $3500. In my case, I know these are tax deductable expenses, but my gosh, I've spent so much money on all these last-minute SNAFUs that I just can't afford another bill. I MUST save everything I can for the closing on this house. So I rented the largest Ryder truck I could get my hands on, complete with a tow cart for my pick-up truck on the back.......all for about $450 for the weekend.

We loaded and loaded.......9 rooms of furniture, to travel 600 miles. We even loaded the pick-up on the tow cart, and loaded it down with the riding mower and garage stuff. Getting it all to fit was no easy chore either. It took 3 men (Thank God for dear friends Curt and Gary in Indianapolis and my new friend Vince) and a lot of maneuvering to get it all into the trucks. There wasn't even enough space for a mouse to fit into a truck! We loaded the van with all 5 kids, and we were off.

The first 350 miles were pleasant with no excitement. But then, it was level, interstate driving. The problems started occurring as it became dark, and we hit the mountains. The only way in was on old county and state roads. The drive was becoming tense. The kids were beginning to argue and get restless. And we were slowing down. With all the weight on the back of the truck, we couldn't take a hill in higher than first gear, and even then, had to fight to get speeds of 20 mph. Then coming down hills, even in first gear, we couldn't slow her down with the brakes. Just as we were coming into to Georgia from Tennessee, the tow cart fishtailed, the pick-up tilted with the towcart on two wheels, and Vince was riding the brakes and still picking up speed. He was losing control of the truck. And we prayed and held our breaths. Vince jerked the wheel, played with the brakes, and God finally allowed everything to straighten out and slow down. Nerves were on end the remainder of the journey.

A similar occurence happened coming around a mountain in northwest Georgia.....two lanes of an old road with only cliff-type drop offs for road edges. We spent 15 minutes climbing a mile or so uphill, to then drop off what appeared to be a 80 degree drop off. Vince dropped the truck into first gear, and started riding the brakes. But again, the truck was picking up speed......the weight behind us pushing us forward. Vince looked over and with a locked jaw, quietly stated "I'm not taking this thing over the mountains. I'd rather aim her into those trees in front of us." I asked him what he was thinking; that was a 90 degree curve in front of us. He calmly told me to "hang on, 'cause we're not going to make that curve." The weight of the truck had again taken over, and he was no longer in control of it. Nothing he did was slowing it down.

In the brief seconds which seemed like hours, my life passed before my eyes. My stomach was churning. My skin felt cold and numb. My head was racing. I could feel the truck beneath us picking up speed as it approached the curve ahead. The darkness felt cold and threatening. Why would God have blessed me with such a great new job opportunity, and brought us this far into this move, just to let us all be wiped out like this?!? And how the heck can Vince be so very calm at a moment like this?!? I looked over at his face. No expression could be seen, just a numb stare into the darkness ahead. His body didn't move, didn't tense up the way mine had already done. Then I looked at his hands, steering what felt like a 5 ton coffin guiding us at high speed into our graves. His knuckles were white, as he held the steering wheel with both hands slightly trembling.

The curve rapidly approached. The truck again, leaned onto its side wheels and then, somehow, rounded the curve to another straight stretch of road going straight uphill. We were again slowing down. The worst was over. Not a word was said. Total silence overtook the cab of the truck as its occupants once again, began to breathe. After what seemed like hours, Vince finally broke the silence with a quiet "If you ever decide to move cross-country again, remind me to LEAVE the country."

The next couple hours of the ride were just as tense, but much less eventful. We drove until we were within an hour or so of the house, began talking and joking again, when we noticed the van lights behind us blinking on and off. Vince looked in the side mirror, and ever so calmly said "hold on again, we're on fire" I initially thought he was joking, and replied "yeah, right". He said "no, I'm serious......there are flames coming out the side of the truck back there". The brakes had gotten hot, and had begun to burn. We were down again, sitting on the side of the road waiting for everything to cool off. The kids were in tears. Everyone was cranky and tired. All our nerves were shot.

And I began to think........ I was going to do this all by myself. I didn't need anyone's help. I'm an independent woman who has always taken care of herself and her children without any help. Why was the move any different? What would I have done had Vince not been with us? Well, it became quite clear. I would have chucked the truck miles back, driven the van to the nearest campground, and we would have become street people....living out of our vehicle. Nothing was worth all THIS! We would be better off living in a cardboard box than dealing with houses, moves, drives, packing, unpacking, etc. My nerves had finally reached the last breaking point. There were no more knots with which to hang on to my rope.

After a few hidden tears, and some time, we were off again, and finally did make it to the bottom of the driveway, only to realize this truck is NOT going to go up that narrow, curvy, long, tree-lined driveway. Vince of course, had decided by this time he was invincible. He played with the truck, see-sawing, and maneuvering until he finally had it in front of the house. We gave it up for the night, came into the house and all collapsed until morning.