Now it seem to be that every time I drove home, that I had to fix either my car or my wife's car, spending all of my weekends fixing cars. This went on for several years, then I retired at age 55. I found that I was still fixing the family cars. We had three of them, old ones, and I believe that there was always one of them broken down and in a state of repair. My wife was still working and I had to take a job at a fast food place.

One Sunday I gave a testimony at church and started crying because I was just so tired of fixing broken cars all of the time.

Two days later, I came out of work in the early evening. It had already turned dark (winter time in Florida) I was driving a Mazda pick-up truck. I climbed into the truck and turned the ignition key .... there was nothing, no sound, no click, nothing. I switched on the lights, there was no lights, not even dim ones. I just sat there for a minute or two with my shoulders slumped over. I finally took a deep breath and said to myself, "Well, here I go again." I pulled the release lever for the hood, grabbed a flashlight, and climbed out of the truck. I walked to the front of the truck and opened the hood. I almost hit the ground at what I saw. It looked like a copper mine, the insulation was burned off of every wire under the hood and the main battery cable was melted completely in to. Boy, I'll tell you, my shoulders really drooped. I reached under the hood and started trying to separate the wires from each other when I heard a voice behind me saying, "I'm a mechanic, can I help?" I started to say, "I'm a mechanic too, I can handle it." But stopped just short of saying it. Instead, I stepped back and said, "OK, " this young man went under the hood and all I saw was elbows flying every which way, not a wasted movement. He had a panel truck parked next to me. He grabbed tape and started taping wires. I said that I wouldn't be able to pay him anything. He said that he was a free lance mechanic and just drove around fixing cars that were broken down, for whatever the people donated to him.

In minutes he had all the wires separated and taped up. Then he stripped part of the main battery cable ends (where it was melted) and twisted them together. He said, " see if it will start?" I got in and turned the ignition key and it started right away.

He said, "There is a auto parts store down the road and if you will drive down there and buy a new battery cable, I will follow you there and put it on your car for you. I was surprised, but agreed,. It was on my way home, but was about five miles down the road. I drove there and as I parked, he parked right beside me in the store's parking lot. He ran in the store, grabbed a battery cable off of the wall and ran out to my truck while I entered and told the clerk that I was paying for it. By the time I had paid for the cable, he had it installed on my truck. I thanked him, gave him a can of hand cleaner that I just bought for him and gave him five dollars.

As I was driving home, it suddenly struck me that this had to be an angel. Why? Because I just remembered that you could not reach the end of the battery cable that attached to the starter without holding your arms up against the exhaust manifold. And He Was NOT Burned!! The truck had just driven five miles, had not been stopped more than two minutes when he changed the cable. The exhaust manifold when driving will glow a very bright red from the heat while driving. Two minutes after stopping, the exhaust manifold would still have been around 900 - 1000 degrees. It should have taken the skin off of him if he touched it. He Was NOT Burned. The next morning, when the engine was cold, I tried to see if it was possible to reach that battery cable connection without touching the exhaust manifold. I was impossible to change it without also touching the exhaust manifold.

That Was an Angel!! Sent By God!!