In the era before cellphones, driving in a St. Louis suburb, my car got stuck on a road's divider while making a left turn. It was in early morning with no help or cars to be seen. A car finally appeared and stopped opposite mine. It held four huge guys and I regretted leaving my pistol at home. The driver came over and asked what happened. "My car's stuck," I said fearfully. After briefly speaking to his companions they came to my car, picked it up, and moved it back onto the road. I wanted to pay the driver but he refused. "There's a revival meeting at St. Louis Field tomorrow night. Come," he said. Then, without another word, my four angels drove off, vanishing into the night.
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