I was driving home to Sarasota from my oldest son Bill’s Naval retirement ceremony in St. Mary’s, Georgia. About 20 minutes out of St. Mary’s, a thought suddenly popped into my head. Had I remembered to unplug and pack the power cord for my computer? I wasn’t sure.
At first, I tried to assure myself that the power cord was safely stowed in my luggage, but I couldn’t remember actually unplugging it and packing it away. Finally, I pulled over to the side of the road. Better to be sure than to arrive home without it.
I popped the trunk and unzipped my suitcase. Sure enough, there was the power cord, right where it should have been. I shut the trunk, got into my car, and continued driving. The next three hours were uneventful.
Suddenly, as I reached Ocala, Florida, and turned south onto I-75, all three lanes of traffic stopped. We could see helicopters flying overhead. Motorists left their cars to walk down the highway. They returned to report that there had been a major accident. The injured were being airlifted out of the wreckage.
Two hours later, traffic slowly began moving again. A mile down the road, my car crawled past what was left of four totaled cars—twisted metal, strewn clothing, ripped ice chests, a stuffed teddy bear. At a rest stop, a motorist confirmed that at least one person had been killed.
Had I not stopped to check on my power cord, would I have been among the dead or injured?
Why had that strange message popped into my head when it did? Was it guardian angels protecting me? Ancestors who cared about my welfare? A Higher Power that knew I still had more work to do on this planet?
I’ll never know. I can only be grateful that the message was offered to me and I listened.