Angel in the Park

ANGEL IN THE PARK

It was a cool, sunny Saturday morning in the spring of 1950. My mother had driven my younger brother and me to the Lions Club Easter egg hunt in the city park. My father, as usual was already there helping his fellow Lions hide the multi-colored eggs for the kids to find and redeem for “valuable prizes”.

As we approached the main entrance to the park we discovered that nearly every other family in town was already in line ahead of us. Even though the population of town was only around six thousand, this could amount to a lengthy wait.

Mom decided to drive around the park and enter from the rear entrance where she hoped there would be less traffic. Driving to the other side of the park involved driving one mile west then one mile south and finally one mile back east. On the south bound leg of the trip it was necessary to cross the railroad. Even though railroads were not protected by crossing signals in those days this was not usually a difficult task.

I can remember it as clearly as if it were yesterday; Mom pulling up to the crossing and stopping to look both directions before proceeding onto the tracks. As we started across the first set of tracks the engine died and we were stranded. Then, as if from nowhere, a train appeared, heading directly toward us. Mom was frantic. She was pumping the clutch, shifting gears and stomping on the starter pedal.

Then just as suddenly as the train had appeared a car appeared behind us and began pushing us across the tracks. It was a difficult task. Mom had apparently left the transmission in gear making it nearly impossible to push our car. Then with just seconds to spare both cars cleared the tracks as the locomotive, belching smoke with whistle screaming, went tearing by. We were safe.

I remember a face appearing at the car window and a voice asking if were all okay. My mother, still in a near state of hysteria, tried to thank him but she was barely able to speak. The car pulled around us as we sat there while Mom regained her composure. I still remember seeing a woman and two children in the car as it disappeared down the road. Finally Mom felt that she had regained enough composure to drive and when she pushed the starter the engine started instantly.

As I stated earlier, Union City, Indiana is a very small town. Everyone knew everyone else. For the rest of her life my mother talked about that day and how she wished that she could thank that man properly, but she didn't know who he was.

No one ever came forward to claim their hero status and no one in town ever had the slightest idea of who that man could have been. He may have just been a caring person who saw someone in need and stepped in to help. To others that may seem to be who he was. But to me he was an Angel in the Park!

R.D. Bruss

6/19