Spinout on the 80!

Spinout on the 80! We had been cruising along for 4 hours on the I-80 last week from Cleveland to NY, when all of a sudden the skies overhead burst open, and a torrential rain began to descend. I’m talking about the kind in which the windshield wipers can’t keep up with the rain, even on the highest setting. I began to hit the brakes in order to slow down in the heavy downpour, and as I did, the car began to hydroplane and started skidding from the left lane that we were in towards the right lane. Frantically, I tried to control the wheel, but it was like driving on ice. The car continued its spin through the right lane and hit the guardrail on the side of the highway at 70 mph. The car continued its revolution and we began driving backwards down the highway (as I described it later, we were traveling eastbound on the 80 but we were facing westbound!). Still trying to regain control of the car, we crossed back through the right lane and then through the left lane, colliding with the guardrail on the left side. After what seemed like an eternity, but was in reality only several seconds, we came to a rest on the shoulder. Why I was on the highway in the first place? Allow me to elaborate. When I was growing up, my amazing parents opened their home to numerous guests who were in need of a place to stay. Some visitors were there for a day or two, others for a weekend, some for a holiday and others that stayed long-term and came back repeatedly. My parents truly embodied the spirit and lessons of Abraham and Sarah in opening their doors and extending hospitality to all who needed. In addition to the more transient guests, there were also some who, for all intents and purposes, became full-fledged members of our family. While not undergoing any formal process, they were essentially foster children for a number of years and we considered (and consider them even to this day) as our siblings. One “brother" of mine – Dovid - came from Iran at the tender age of 10, and remained with us until he married and started his own home. (A cute story with Dovid occurred at a family bar mitzvah, when my Great Aunt Pearl – who was never one to hold her tongue – saw my brothers and me together with Dovid. Dovid, with his dark middle-eastern complexion, looked every bit like an Iranian native. Aunt Pearl remarked loudly as she pointed to each of us, “Well this one looks like Murray (my father) and this one looks like Beverly (my mother) but who does this one look like? He doesn’t look like anyone!” (Cringe!) Another foster brother of mine was Gabor, an impish redhead who came from Hungary at the age of 16 to experience a Passover in America at an Orthodox home, and ended up staying with us until he too got married and settled in Montreal. Well, a few weeks ago Gabor was marrying off his daughter to a fellow from England and, due to Covid, elected to make the wedding in New York. My brother and I decided that we would travel in for the wedding, knowing how meaningful to Gabor and his wife and daughter. Even though we had both done a significant amount of traveling recently, and would have preferred to just stay home, we decided it was too important and was worth the effort and expense entailed. So, with the blessings of our wives, we left Cleveland in my car hoping to arrive at the wedding in time for the smorgasbord reception before the chuppah. The trip was pleasant and uneventful... until the aforementioned crash occurred. Extremely shaken, but, miraculously, physically unharmed, my brother and I looked at each other and each of us asked if the other one was OK (that’s just the type of guys we are). We also simultaneously and wryly remarked that our getting to the wedding in time for the smorgasbord just suffered a major setback (that’s also the type of guys we are!) After a quick scan of our respective bodies we saw that we both were completely fine, without as much as a single scratch, bump or even bruise. Other than our yarmulkes flying off our heads during the hellish spinout, and his cup of coffee splattering on his shirt, we were 100% fine. Despite the fact that there were plenty of cars and trucks on the road at the time, during those few seconds that we were zigzagging across the highway twice like an out-of-control bumper car, there were none coming up behind us at that time. Had there been, I probably would not be sitting here writing this article. We got out of the car to examine the damage and saw that it was smashed up pretty badly, but it did look like it could be driven, at least for a short distance. One major concern we had was that the front bumper was smashed up and hanging. Considering we were in the middle of Pennsylvania, and nowhere near an exit, we hoping to try and drive it to a shop. Concerned the bumper may fall off en route, we looked in my trunk to see if there was anything I could use to attach it. Fortunately I had kept some elastic bands in my trunk from when I was doing therapy on my injured shoulder and we did our best MacGyver impression as we jerry rigged the bumper with a bright neon green band to keep it from falling off. Cautiously, I started the car and eased it back onto the highway. I had no power steering and the wheel was pulling towards the left but I was able to drive it. We drove about 20 miles until I saw an exit and got off. By an act of Divine Providence there was a truck service station right off the exit and they directed me to a car repair shop a mere mile down the road. I drove to the shop where I explained what happened. The mechanic took a look at the car and told me it was not safe to drive. Being 3 hours from NY and 4 hours from Cleveland, I called Enterprise and requested a rental. Considering it was just before Memorial Day, they were all out of cars – except for one! The rental agency was 30 minutes away, but instead of having to wait that long for someone to get us, the lady told us they had a driver dropping off a customer in our vicinity (which, mind you, was in the middle of nowhere) and that he would be there sooner to pick us up. I called insurance to file a claim, and before I was even done with the call, the driver picked us up and we headed to the agency to get a rental. We arrived at Enterprise just ahead of 5 different customers who walked in after us, so we were taken care of immediately. Sure enough, the agent took care of our paperwork and brought us out to the one car they had. Somehow, from the time we crashed until we were settled in the rental car, only an hour and a quarter had passed. I marveled at the amount of “hashgacha” – Divine Providence – we had experienced at every turn. It was now 5 o’clock and we realized that we could still make it to the wedding for the majority of the affair. My brother asked me if we should just turn back and head home, as it had been a pretty harrowing experience, and Gabor was sure to understand if we didn’t come considering what we had been through. But I felt that we should forge on and go to the wedding, provided my brother was on board to do so. The Torah teaches that people involved in the performance of a mitzvah will not suffer harm. Looking back and realizing that, aside from the damage to my car, we had both witnessed such incredible Divine protection and assistance, I was convinced it was only due to the fact that we were on our way to perform a mitzvah. As such, I felt it appropriate to continue on that mission. We indeed drove on and walked into the wedding just as the chuppah was beginning. We were one of only a handful of close friends that Gabor had and we danced up a storm and joined in him with his joyous occasion. He was overflowing with gratitude to us for coming and could not stop thanking us. It was so gratifying for us to hear that and validated our decisions we made, both initially as well as post-crash. At midnight we got into the car and headed back home through the night. Fortunately the ride home was fast and uneventful and, other than the fact that I am still in a rental and need to find a replacement car (a daunting task I am finding out in this current used car market!), the saga of that day has passed and life returned to normal. My purpose in writing about this is twofold. One, to publicly thank G-d for the miracle He performed for us in protecting us from any form of injury or worse. Two, to show the power of performing G-d’s commandments and the assurances of the Torah. When we are promised with an extra layer of protection during mitzvah performance it is an insurance well worth “buying” and we should keep it in mind when confronted with the opportunity to do a mitzvah. Aside from the fact that is the correct thing to do, it may very well save our own lives! In the meantime, if you know of any good deals on a car, I am all ears (preferably one that doesn’t have a neon green rubber band on the bumper)! Shabbat Shalom, Rabbi Yosef Koval