A Life Wasted

On the Run with Family

We drove south into Virginia.  There wasn't a reason for this direction, just the direction I decided to take.  Within a few days we had set up for the weekend at a campground near Lynchburg, Virginia.   Not having a TV or computer to cover the news (this was in the ancient pre-smart phone days) we didn't realize that a rare east coast hurricane had turned inland in Virginia and was headed in our direction.  By the time it reached us so far inland it was no longer hurricane strength, but was still one nasty storm.  We spent two miserable days and nights huddled in the van after the winds destroyed our tent.

After the storm passed I made one of my famously stupid decisions and stole a 37' Winnebago motor home from a dealer's lot.  I ditched our van and put my family in the far roomier motor home.  I'm not sure how much of this the kids understood.  I haven't even thought about it until writing this, but the older ones, Clay, Rebecca, Luke, and Kelly had to understand what was going on.  Hopefully they will offer their comments on this.

It is not easy to blend in with a stolen 37' motor home, so I needed to put some distance between us and the scene of the crime.  It was now pushing into winter, so I reasoned that anyone stealing a motor home would go south.  Assuming the cops would reach the same conclusion I drove east and then north.  We drove to the Virginia Beach area then crossed the famous Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel.  I wanted to take this route to show it to the kids.  Early in our marriage we lived in Virginia Beach and Mary and I used to drive out to the center of the Bay Bridge Tunnel to fish off a great pier they have in its center for this reason.  So I wanted to show the spot to the kids.

After I got off the road to reach the pier's parking lot we were immediately stuck in heavy tourist traffic.  As we crawled forward with all the kids pressed against the front window to see the water, we all noticed a cop looking right at us.  Starring at us.  Everyone tensed when Clay said,"That cop is looking at us," so I guess they did understand what was happening.  At this point I shocked my family by opening my window and calling out to the cop.  I asked the cop how to get back on the northbound side of the road, which served the purpose of eliminating whatever doubts he was having about us.  Because of the way he looked at the motor home I suspected he'd read a BOLO (Be on the LookOut) on a big Winnebago and remembered it when he saw us.  Then when I drew his attention to speak to him my openness removed his doubts.  I am sure the passel of children plastered across the windshield didn't hurt either.  Regardless, he gave me directions and didn't look at us again.  I'd wanted to take the kids on the dock, but after that encounter I was content to keepdriving north.