For almost two years now, I have dreaded the rain for one reason. When it rains, my driver side floorboard fills up with water. It gets about ankle-deep. My car has about two hundred thousand miles on it, but it still runs great.

For almost two years now, I have dreaded the rain for one reason. When it rains, my driver side floorboard fills up with water. It gets about ankle-deep. My car has about two hundred thousand miles on it, but it still runs great.

However, when it rains, it is like I’m driving around sitting on the edge of one those blue plastic baby pools they sell outside of Wal-Mart and K-Mart. I bought one for my big poodle, Doolittle recently, but I haven’t convinced him to get into it. He just wants to drink the water.

Why haven’t I done anything about the water problem?

I have.

I bail it out, soak it up and keep trying to figure out where it’s coming from. I’ve resealed the window and taken it to the dealership, both to no avail. The folks at the dealership said, “We sprayed water on it for 15 minutes and it didn’t leak.”

They need to come soak their feet with me. I’ve thought about putting Epsom Salts in when it gets up high enough and making the best of it.

The guys at work are supposed to be really smart and good at solving problems. The best idea that one of them had was to install a drain in my floorboard. That made sense – perhaps a shower drain with one of those rubber plugs so I could reach in and just let the water out when it rains.

A big tarp works wonders when I remember to put it on and I’m in the driveway. Unfortunately, I have to use my car from time to time to get to work and other places. When driving in the rain, it’s kind of like being sprinkled by an exuberant Methodist minister who insists on pouring the water only on your left foot.

You have to look at the bright side.

Anyway, I finally had a breakthrough. A friend of a friend of a friend “knew somebody.” They noted, “This guy can figure it out.” I like folks that can figure things out. The world is filled with too many people that don’t try to figure things out, they only wait around until somebody tries to fix something and then complain about it.

I asked, “Where does this fellow work?” The response was, “Out of his house.” This did not scare me – as a matter of fact, it made me feel better.

When you hear things like this (or when I do), you get the feeling the person must be so good that he doesn’t need a storefront or garage.

My instructions were simple. “You go down Route __, take a right before you get to the convenience store and his is the fifth house on the right. They also gave me the address. It was easy to find – right where they said it was.

It was a nice little house with a well-kept yard and an eagle over the garage. Eagles on houses make me feel better also. About 20 years ago, I lived by a gentleman in his 70’s that explained to me, “an eagle on your house means it is paid for.” That same gentleman used to take my trash to the road out of kindness on pick up day. He also cut my grass just because he was my neighbor. My children were babies and that same “Eagle Fellow” would come in and watch them if we needed to run to the store.

He had an eagle on his house and he is still alive.

Therefore, I feel good when I see an eagle on a house.

My instructions were to leave my car in the shade tree mechanic’s driveway and leave the keys on the left front tire.

I did.

The next day, I got a phone call. The fellow said, “Hey, this is Lewis, I think I fixed your car. You can pick it up anytime you want to.” I thanked him and Lewis went on to say, “… if it still leaks, you don’t owe me anything.”

After talking to Lewis, I felt a lot better. He had what I thought to be a “Guinea dialect.” If you’ve heard it once, you know it. Trust me. Folks with the Guinea dialect have big hearts.

A couple of days after I got my car back; it came a monsoon over the weekend and rained for two days straight. I looked out the window and saw that I again forgot to put the tarp over my car. I got this sick feeling – a feeling that I needed to rush to the store and buy some Epsom Salts and make the best of another foot bath.

Then I remembered Lewis, the nice looking the little house, the eagle and the Guinea dialect.

I rushed to my car in the rain and opened the door.

It was bone dry.

Not a drop of water on the floorboard.

Driving to work Monday morning, I called Lewis. When he answered, I simply said, “You are wonderful.” Of course Lewis said, “Who dis?” The “Guinea Men of Virginia” were fishermen and their dialect is distinct, trust me, he said, “Who dis?”

After explaining to him who I was and how happy I was, he started laughing. He started laughing like only a fellow who has an eagle on his house can laugh. We talked a while and then I asked him, “How much do I owe you?”

Lewis said, “Do you think 20 or 25 dollars would be too much?” I said, “No sir, not at all.”

What I would like to say is that the world needs more folks like Lewis, folks that know how to fix things and have eagles on their modest houses. We need more folks who are kind-hearted and honestly want to help others.

Twenty or twenty-five dollars?

Are you kidding me?

Two years of having water poured on my left foot by an exuberant minister under the dash of my car.

I am now saved (by Lewis).

The world needs more Lewises, or Lewis’s, or Lewis’ or let’s just say, “People like Lewis.”

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