TobySturgill.com, y’all.

It’s Saturday night. My buddy, Jesse (@blinkonceprod), and I are hitting the town (Nashville–Demonbreun Street to be exact). It’s guy’s night. Our first stop is The Tin Roof. Jesse makes the comment that it’s pretty slow and there aren’t a lot of people out. Coldplay & Snow Patrol are in concert tonight, so that’s where the sum of Nashville’s nightlife seem to be.

A few hours pass and we decide to meet up with some of our friends down on Broadway; the Bluegrass Inn. We already had a parking spot on this side of town and didn’t want to 1) fight traffic and 2) find & pay for a parking spot. We take a taxi. It’s 10 blocks.

I stay outside for a bit and eat a hot dog. Having not really eaten dinner, it’s exactly what I need. The time is now 12:15am and it’s starting to pick up; the concert just got out of the Sommet Center across the street.

A few hours pass and someone notices that one of the guys in the bar (I believe we’re at The Fiddler, although I can’t be too sure as we came in the back door from the honkytonk next door) looks like the guy from Snow Patrol. Tracie (@gradientracie) is sure of it and goes to talk to him. Sure enough it’s him plus another guy who we didn’t believe to be part of the band, but a quick Google search on an iPhone proved he was in fact a second member of Snow Patrol.

It’s 3:00 AM, last call, and we’re standing outside talking the the main guy from the band (sorry, didn’t catch his name). Tracie is flirtworking (her form of networking, but with some added flair… great for drumming up new business).

Jesse and I say our goodbyes and goodnights and head back up to where my car is parked. We decide to hoof it all 10 blocks. The fresh air is nice, although these shoes are killing my feet.

We get to my car around 3:20 AM and make our way back to The Hill, reflecting on the night’s progress. All in all it was a good night.

—–

About a year or so ago my car is having radiator issues. There is a problem with a fan blade not working properly that sends a mixed signal saying the car is overheating when, in fact, it isn’t. I get the car checked out and everything is is working order.

…Until about a week ago. I notice that my coolant light is coming back on. I always keep an extra bottle of it in my car to top it off here and there. I notice that my car is “overheating” again (assuming it’s the same problem as before) and make a point to have it looked at on Monday. It’s Saturday, well Sunday morning by now and we’re almost home.

—–

Passing under 840 I feel my car acting funny; it is a bit jerky. I notice smoke in my rear view mirror, but think I’m merely burning some oil (a condition my Jetta has had for some time now). The needle for the engine temperature keeps spiking and falling; the AC goes in and out.

It’s just a miscommunication between parts. I really need to get this looked at tomorrow. We’re slow close to home, almost there.

It’s at that moment my engine completely shuts down; all engine lights come on and I have no power. I pull off on the side of I-65 and turn the engine off. White smoke pours out of the hood and into the cabin from the air ducts.

I wake Jesse up. “Dude, it’s overheated.” Said pretty matter-of-fact. More annoyed than anything. Great, now I’m going to have to call a tow truck. “Oh, that’s ok… just wait til it cools down.” he says with his eyes closed and not really awake yet. “Hmm…”, I say.

At that moment I notice a flicker of yellow light on the pavement outside my window. That’s odd… I don’t have my blinker on. Where’s this light coming from? Curious, I get out and look under my car. I see fire dripping down from the engine block.

“Dude, wake up! We’ve gotta get out of here. The car’s on fire! Jesse, c’mon!” Said with a little more panic.

He gets out of the car and looks under as well. It keeps dripping. We walk away from the car and I call 911. It’s 3:52 AM. Shocked and in disbelief at what’s happening I tell the guy on the other end of the line where we’re located and that my car is on fire. He sends someone out and hangs up the phone.

Two minutes pass by and I’m not certain the 911 guy got the severity of the issue. I call back. It’s 3:54 AM.

“911 what’s your location”

“Yeah, I just called you about my car being on fire… I’m not sure you understand the severity of the issue. This thing’s about explode!” All I can imagine is a big explosion happening at any minute.

By this time my car is engulfed in flames. Black billowy smoke can be seen against the dawning sky. Traffic isn’t sure what to do. Some people stop and ask if they can help, others speed by to get out of the way.

I’m not exactly sure what emotion I’m feeling at the moment. I laugh (my default emotion when I’m not sure what else to do. It’s often inappropriate and gets me into trouble). I feel sick to my stomach, I’m shaking, I’m in shock at the fire ball my little Jetta has become.

The firemen show up and finally extinguish the inferno. “You can take a look at it now, sir. The trunk is the only thing that’s left.”

Jesse and I go to take pictures and retrieve what’s left out of my trunk; my climbing harness and chalk bag.

Tracie shows up at this point to come get us and is just emotional and in shock. She takes us home.

—–

It’s often said that we can’t control our situations, only how we react to them. My reaction, while stunned and in shock, is one of acceptance and belief that this all happened for a reason. Not sure what that reason is quite yet and it doesn’t help me get to where I need to go, but I have a peace that everything will work out.

Standing there watching my car go up in flames I couldn’t help but think of this:

Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God’s Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our pregnant condition, and keeps us present before God. That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good. Romans 8:26-20 The Message.

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