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prairie town called Lovelock, we stopped at the only gas station. Tommy thought the little traveler trailer didn’t feel right. He wanted to check it out. The travel trailer had a flat tire. Fortunately, we carried a spare with us. Tommy spent a difficult half hour changing the tire that seemed to be glued on. The abundant swearing must have soothed him.
    Meanwhile, we all used the bathroom at the gas station and Andy took Buffy for a walk on her leash. When Tommy finished changing the tire, we gladly jumped into the air-conditioned station wagon. It was an unusually hot day.
    About forty miles west of Lovelock on Interstate 80, Tommy was checking traffic conditions on his CB radio. We were making great time heading toward Reno until Tommy said, “Where’s Buffy?”
    She wasn’t in the car with us! Andy said she ran under a parked car at the gas station in Lovelock to lay down out-of-the-sun and he forgot to tell us. Tommy was frantic and the boys were crying.
    In his haste to get back to Lovelock, Tommy suddenly turned the steering wheel attempting to drive across the sandy Interstate divide, down the embankment and unto the gully, but before we could reach the other side both the station wagon
and
the travel trailer sunk into the hot sand. We were stuck in the middle of the desert between the two sections of freeway and no one could see us. Tommy tried to back up but we didn’t move. He tried to pull forward but nothing happened. Just spinning tires prompted the swearing. The truckers would have been proud of him.
    Tommy decided to hitch a ride back to Lovelock, but
I
would go in the car to Lovelock, find Buffy, and bring back a tow truck and
he
would stay with the vehicles and the boys.
    Tommy gave me almost all the money he had in his wallet to pay for the tow truck before he climbed the sandy embankment, crossed the road, and stuck out his thumb. The first car that came by stopped for him. When he saw the two young guys in the blue Camaro, he decided
he
should go with them and I should stay.
    It was the hottest day of the year, a record breaking 117 degrees in the desert and we were stuck in it. To make matters worse, I was sick. I had a terrible stomach ache and head ache. I was dehydrated. It’s a good thing we had a port-a-potty in the travel trailer because I was in there often.
    I gave the boys water to drink and wiped their faces, arms, and legs with a wet wash cloth to keepthem cool. After a while, I decided if I didn’t do something to get us out of the hot dry desert that we were all going to die.
    I turned on the CB radio and called for help. “Breaker, breaker…anyone out there got their ears on for this damsel in distress? I need your help. I’m forty miles west of Lovelock, stuck in the sand between the two freeways. You can’t see me from the road. I need someone to pull my car and trailer out of the sand. Is anyone out there? Come back.” I wasn’t use to talking on the CB radio but I heard Tommy do it hundreds of times.
    Instantly there was a reply. “Hey little lady, I got your back. I’m headed east out of Reno toward Lovelock. This big ole eighteen wheeler can do the job. I’ll be watchin for ya.”
    Right away was another reply. “Hold on, little lady, that eighteen wheeler doesn’t have nothin on my big ole Ford four-by-four three-quarter ton work-horse-of-a-truck. I’ve got a wench on it front and back. Where are ya, little lady? I heard ya say you’re bout forty miles west of Lovelock. Come back, come back to Big John.”
    “I’m going to walk up the embankment to the freeway. Please hurry. I’m stuck in the hot sand with my two little boys and I’m sick. I need help right away. Come back?”
    “We’ve got your back, little lady. We’re on the way and looking for ya right now. We’re in a big red Ford truck. You can’t miss us.”
    I dropped the CB, quickly walked up the sandy embankment to the Interstate, and crossed onto the other side. I left the boys in the station