Angels Often Wear Disguises

Sometimes random people happen into your life at just the right time. These are people you don't know and probably will never see again. They appear, help in a time of need, and disappear just as quickly, but they leave a lasting impression. I encountered one of these angels in disguise last night.

The short backstory is that Wil and I took our boat out to see the Blues yesterday, taking along 3 of his co-workers. It was my first boat trip since I broke my foot. Now in a walking boot, I thought I could handle the trip. We put in at Navarre and made the 90 minute boat trip through the East Pass at Pensacola and back around to the Pensacola Beach Pier. The show was great!

After the show, we headed back. I smelled smoke shortly into the return trip. The boat engine had a mechanical problem and we lost power. Three boats stopped to inquire if we needed help (bless them!) and one called the Coast Guard. They towed us to Lost Key Marina, off Gulf Beach Highway, a few miles west of our route. Our passengers decided to Uber home from there. We called Tow Boat US (we're members) and finally were towed back toward the east.

A bit into the trip, our tow boat captain informed us that the tow to Navarre from there at tow boat speed would be 5 hours! (About 90 minutes by regular speed) So, we opted to be dropped off at Shoreline Park boat ramp. Wil got an Uber ride to Navarre to get our truck and trailer from the Navarre Beach boat dock and I stayed in the boat tied up at the Shoreline dock.

It was well-lit and I was safe there, but I had a little over an hour wait by myself until Wil returned. My cell phone battery life was below 20% and I had no charger, but my BFF texted with me and kept me company, which didn't use up much of my battery. A few people had spoken with Wil at the head of the dock as he was waiting for Uber, one even offering to drive him to Navarre! However, they were headed to Milton, Uber was on the way, and we wouldn't impose on a stranger like that.

Oddly enough, no one spoke to me for the hour I sat there. People came by, boats were brought in and loaded on trailers, others came to fish on adjacent docks. Whatever the reason, it was okay with me. I was safe and didn't need anything. Once Wil got to our truck and headed back my way, he called me two or three times to report his progress.

A minute or two before Wil's arrival, shortly after his last call, a man and his young son wandered onto the dock where our boat was tied. They were carrying nets and a bucket. I got the impression they were hunting crabs. Sure enough, the little boy wandered my way and started a conversation. He was 6 years old (I found out later) and, like most young kids, had no filter. His first comment after exchanging hellos was "What are you doing here?"

As a teacher, talking to kids comes easy to me, so my answer just prompted more questions and we chatted for a minute. The dad came along behind him, exchanged pleasantries with me, and warned the kid not to bother me. Then the man complimented my boat and commented on the brand. Wil and I have a Stingray boat and they are not common around here. He told me about his friend's Stingray.

This man was nothing but nice, but not someone I might have struck up a conversation with under the circumstances. Alone on a boat in the dark, I might not have been so friendly. The man was wearing nothing but swimming trunks. He was missing teeth, had a beer belly, and was shoeless. Judging by appearances may be wrong, but first impressions are mighty and appearance is the first thing we notice.

However, I was completely unthreatened by this man. Because he was with a child who approached me first, that really helped. Secondly, I knew Wil was arriving any minute. Lastly, he was totally non-threatening and kept his distance, not just out of my personal space, but out of the boat's "personal space."

After a brief exchange about the boat, the man said, "You look like you've had a long day." His perception was disarming. I found myself telling him about how the boat was disabled and we had been towed twice and Wil had to Uber to Navarre. I can't remember exactly what he said in reply, but it was appropriately sympathetic.

As I told my story, Wil arrived, prepped the trailer, backed down the boat ramp, and rushed to the dock. As Wil went to help me out of the boat, the man offered to help. Wil assured him we were okay, but it was a struggle for Wil to pull the boat closer, hold it steady, AND help me out with my broken foot. So, I found myself telling the stranger that I had a broken foot.

The man immediately knelt at the edge of the dock and offered me his hand and help.  I could not have asked for a more gallant gentleman. By using his hand and Wil's free hand, my exit from the boat, with huge walking boot was way more graceful than it otherwise would have been. I got my balance and hobbled away with my cane. The guy cautioned me, "If you fall, be sure to fall away from the water!"

Wil and the man chatted, I assume something about how Wil was going to use the rope to wrangle the boat onto the trailer. Wil called to me, "Watch out for the steps!" The deck was two different levels. I was on the lower level walking alongside the upper level. I had assumed the lower level was even with the ground, but there were three steps to the upper level to get to the ground.

Within a minute, the man was kneeling next to the steps on the upper level offering me his hand and help again. Without a handrail, his help was most welcome. He walked along behind me. His son had stayed behind and was peppering Wil with questions, which Wil largely ignored. He was trying to singlehandedly get the boat turned and headed the right way. The man called to his son over his shoulder, "I think that man has had a bad day, if you keep pestering him and he throws you in the water, don't cry to me!"

Once I was safely on ground, this man headed down the ramp, feeling his way gingerly on the slippery concrete underwater, hanging on to our truck. He cautioned the kid to stay on the dock. The kid was eager to follow dad, but the man turned around and said, "I told you to stay put, now SIT!" This kid who was constantly talking and moving around, immediately shut up and sat. He knew when dad meant business, though the part about him staying quiet didn't last long.

This is the kind of parent I love. He had been so patient and tolerant with the kid, answering his questions and talking to him. When the kid was pestering Wil, he cautioned him that he would have to accept the consequences (not that Wil would ever throw any kid in the water). But when he meant business, the kid KNEW. He did not want the kid to be unsafe.

As Wil approached with the boat, it soon became apparent that the posts of the dock were getting in the way and the rope wouldn't reach for Wil to get to the ground and down the ramp. By this time, the guy was standing by the winch and told Wil to throw him the rope. Wil did and the man finished pulling the boat onto the trailer and began winching it up. Wil hurried to help and moved the boat around to center it as the man finished the winching.

Wil gratefully shook the man's hand and thanked him. The man gingerly came back up the ramp with his bare feet. Wil got in the truck and moved the boat up and out of the water, then away from the ramp. I also shook the man's hand and thanked him, telling him that he came along at just the right time to help. He was gracious and told me he was happy to help.

I hobbled away toward Wil and this man gathered up his son and they walked on with nets and bucket to another dock. As we parted in different directions, the kid must have asked this man why he helped us. I didn't hear the question, but I heard the man say, "Why son, helping people is just the right thing to do! Someday you might need help and you would want someone to help you. Those same people I helped might be the ones that help me someday." I was reminded of Andy Griffith and Opie.

The teacher in me wanted to turn back and tell the kid the story of Androcles and the Lion or the fable of The Lion and the Mouse. Of course, I didn't. This father had taught his son a far more powerful lesson through his words and actions that I ever could with my stories. This barefoot, partially toothless guy with a beer belly is a true gentleman and is raising a son who hopefully will be the same.

I never learned this man's name. I probably will never see him again. I have no idea how he came to be there or where he was from. He certainly didn't fit the image of this affluent bedroom community for Pensacola. I don't know how he came to be there at a time when we needed him most, accompanied by the perfect companion to engender my trust, and at the perfect time that I was willing to trust him.

Sometimes, angels are in disguise. If you can let yourself trust and see past the disguise, you might not see their angel wings, but you will see their heart of gold.