Our son Jamie, 38, is the financial accountant for Sea World in Orlando. He and his wife Amy have given us two darling grandchildren, Brynn, a girl of almost 3, and Killian, a boy not yet 1. In Orlando they have been getting by with one car, whereas we have been housing three lately, since our youngest son Alex, 30, moved to Portland, Oregon in September, leaving behind his 1999 Honda Civic.
So it was that Jamie flew up to MHT, the airport in Manchester, New Hampshire, on Friday afternoon to pick up Alex's car as a "loaner," which Alex had kindly offered to him until he got a chance to retrieve it, and drive it west.
Shirl and I met Jamie at MHT, and brought him to Plymouth for a good dinner at The Italian Farmhouse, and a night's sleep before embarking on his two-day drive home, which was to start Saturday morning.
Thus, early yesterday Jamie helped me with a couple of late-fall chores requiring muscles, such as pushing Shirl's old (non-running) Triumph Spitfire out of the barn far enough to allow me to extract our snow-blower, which is now at-the-ready in our garage. I then helped him to clean out Alex's car, for which I had had an oil change and general maintenance check done on Friday. It had been running perfectly.
At about 10:30, Jamie and we hugged, said our "Drum buns," and off he went to fill up with gas at the Irving station near Plymouth, then head over to I-91 for the trip south, while I headed north to the Campton/Thornton Town Dump with a week's load of trash. I did not take my cell phone with me. Hence, it was perhaps 30 minutes later when I arrived home to find Shirl in the garage, waiting for me.
"Do you have your cell phone?" Shirl asked.
"Nope."
"Well, the car won't start. Jamie is waiting for you at the Irving station."
I immediately headed to the gas station, and found Jamie reminiscing about his last ride to Orlando from Campton (See Link).
The car was newly filled with fresh gasoline, would crank like the dickens, indicating a powerful charge in its battery, but would not fire up. I surmised that either the fuel pump had failed, or the ignition system was "on the fritz."
In my Santa Fe I keep a tow rope, so we hitched the Civic to my trailer hitch, and with Jamie steering the Civic, I towed him and it to J&M Imports, our marvelous mechanic's shop on Route U.S. 3, just north of the Plymouth/Campton town line.
Fortunately, Danny was working Saturday. He checked the ignition, and determined that there was no spark. We left the ailing car at J&M, and drove home in the Santa Fe.
Now what to do? We had Jamie in Campton on Saturday noon, needing to work at Sea World - Orlando on Monday morning. I offered to take him back to MHT to catch a flight home. Shirl offered him her 2003 SAAB 9-3 convertible as her loaner, for him to use until she and I can get the Civic repaired, and bring it down to Florida (a trip that we have been planning to take for several months, but in her SAAB). Tonight, Jamie is sleeping in Scotland, Pennsylvania, and has 1000 miles left to drive tomorrow. At his age, that should be no problem... (said with fingers crossed).
So it was that Jamie flew up to MHT, the airport in Manchester, New Hampshire, on Friday afternoon to pick up Alex's car as a "loaner," which Alex had kindly offered to him until he got a chance to retrieve it, and drive it west.
Shirl and I met Jamie at MHT, and brought him to Plymouth for a good dinner at The Italian Farmhouse, and a night's sleep before embarking on his two-day drive home, which was to start Saturday morning.
Thus, early yesterday Jamie helped me with a couple of late-fall chores requiring muscles, such as pushing Shirl's old (non-running) Triumph Spitfire out of the barn far enough to allow me to extract our snow-blower, which is now at-the-ready in our garage. I then helped him to clean out Alex's car, for which I had had an oil change and general maintenance check done on Friday. It had been running perfectly.
At about 10:30, Jamie and we hugged, said our "Drum buns," and off he went to fill up with gas at the Irving station near Plymouth, then head over to I-91 for the trip south, while I headed north to the Campton/Thornton Town Dump with a week's load of trash. I did not take my cell phone with me. Hence, it was perhaps 30 minutes later when I arrived home to find Shirl in the garage, waiting for me.
"Do you have your cell phone?" Shirl asked.
"Nope."
"Well, the car won't start. Jamie is waiting for you at the Irving station."
I immediately headed to the gas station, and found Jamie reminiscing about his last ride to Orlando from Campton (See Link).
The car was newly filled with fresh gasoline, would crank like the dickens, indicating a powerful charge in its battery, but would not fire up. I surmised that either the fuel pump had failed, or the ignition system was "on the fritz."
In my Santa Fe I keep a tow rope, so we hitched the Civic to my trailer hitch, and with Jamie steering the Civic, I towed him and it to J&M Imports, our marvelous mechanic's shop on Route U.S. 3, just north of the Plymouth/Campton town line.
Fortunately, Danny was working Saturday. He checked the ignition, and determined that there was no spark. We left the ailing car at J&M, and drove home in the Santa Fe.
Now what to do? We had Jamie in Campton on Saturday noon, needing to work at Sea World - Orlando on Monday morning. I offered to take him back to MHT to catch a flight home. Shirl offered him her 2003 SAAB 9-3 convertible as her loaner, for him to use until she and I can get the Civic repaired, and bring it down to Florida (a trip that we have been planning to take for several months, but in her SAAB). Tonight, Jamie is sleeping in Scotland, Pennsylvania, and has 1000 miles left to drive tomorrow. At his age, that should be no problem... (said with fingers crossed).
