"Let's call Good Sam! That's why we pay for their service!" I said impatiently.

At this point my husband gave me a hard look and said, "It will take them hours to get out here! But if it will make you happy - CALL THEM!" And handed me the cell phone.

I had programmed their number into the phone memory for just such an emergency and with the touch of a button I heard - "Good Sam. This is Larry speaking. How can I help you?"

"Larry," I said, pleasantly surprised that a person answered so soon and that I hadn't gotten one of those machines that tell you to punch one if you want this, and 2 if you want that! "This is Mrs. Johnston and I'm calling you on our cell phone."

"Can I have your Good Sam number?" he asked.

"Well - Larry, that's the problem - it's in my purse - that's locked inside the truck - that's setting on the roadside - with the engine running!"

"Ok, what's your name and your zip code and maybe I can find you in the computer," he said. I gave him this information and after a short pause he asked me to confirm my postal address.

"Yes! That's us," I answered in relief.

They make it so easy for us now! Just push a button and the coffeepot is set to perk the coffee at the desired time you wish it to be ready. Hit this key on the computer and add an email address to your directory. Push this little button and the truck door is locked. What more do we want? Except when you accidentally hit that button at the wrong time!

The weather was lovely for early August and we were excited about getting on the road again after an exciting 10 days at The Cheyenne Frontier Days rodeo. We had an early morning start and had just crossed the border from Wyoming into Nebraska on I-80. The last sign I read stated Kimball was the next town ahead of us. Just those big semi trucks on the road, and us! The view of the morning sun on those rolling hills was breathtaking. Not a house in sight. It was going to be a good day.

Morris looked out the side window of the truck and saw the white rubber stripping that covers the screws along the ridge that runs along the top edge of the trailer had come loose and was flapping in the wind. Pulling to the side of the highway, he jumped out of the truck, leaving it running, and ran back, climbed on the back bumper of the trailer and tried to slip it back into the grove again. I could see him in the side mirror, struggling with it as the weight of it just made it slip out again each time he got it up above where he could easily reach.

That's when I made my first mistake! I jumped out of the truck and closed the door to keep the cool air in, and walked back to see if there was anything I could do to help! By this time his patience with the struggle had given out and anger had taken hold of him. He went to his tool box and pulled out a pair of cutter pliers that he used to cut it off and threw this strip of rubber into the basement compartment and walked to the truck door to get in.

He looked at me and said, "Where's your key." That's when I stared at him...then at the locked door. "It's hooked to my purse inside the truck!" I whimpered.

Silence! That's what I heard. But if looks could kill, I'd be dead! I had hit that little lock button on the door armrest getting out of the truck.

He very calmly said, "Well! Guess the only way to get in is to break a window!"

"Oh no! Don't do that!" I cried.

I had an extra key to the trailer door inside one of the basement compartment's, 'just in case I got myself locked out of the trailer', something I'd never done with this trailer but it had happened to me when we had the old trailer. Luck would be with us there, for we have not locked this basement door. I found the key, went inside the trailer and got a wire hanger. I remembered that we had gotten into an older car this way once when I had locked it with the key still in the switch. Morris and straightened out the hanger and pulling out a hacksaw blade, he proceeded to try to get in without breaking a window out!

The way they had these locks set up on the new trucks I thought he would never get in with just a hanger and a saw blade. That's when I decided to call Good Sam...

"Now could you tell me what your location is?" was Larry's next question.

I'd finally gotten them on the phone and I didn't know where I was!

"We're on I-80 and have just crossed from Wyoming into Nebraska." I said.

He then asked. "What was the last mile marker?"

"Boy! I don't remember that I noticed! But the last sign said the next town was Kimball, NE about 20 miles ahead!" I told him.

Just as he asks me to hold while he checked to see were the closest service was, Morris yelled, "I got it!"

I still don't exactly know how Morris managed to slide the hanger wire under the rubber on the front wing window and with the saw blade bent, push the button in and at the same time, hook the wire around the pull that slides sideways that keeps this little window locked, and open that wing window.

As we headed on down the road Morris said, "If I can get into the truck that easy, a thief can too." We will certainly never leave the laptop computer or the digital camera inside the truck unguarded again.

Questions?
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