I have an older Ford F-150 pickup that our family uses as a secondary vehicle and for the occasional trip to the landfill. Recently, it had been sitting for a while, and with the weather warming up and summer on the horizon, I figured it was probably time for a tune-up.

Once my son got an invite to LCPS Family Movie Night, I knew I had to go ahead and get it ready so we could do a little tailgating at the Goochland Drive-In.

The gear shifter had a habit of getting stuck and forcing me to manually override it, while every so often the brake lights would quit on me too. After some troubleshooting, I ordered a replacement brake switch and installed it myself, thinking I was really accomplishing something. Things had been going smoothly and I was in a comfortable zone, and while I always stay optimistic, I’ve learned over the years that once you fix one thing something else tends to act up. Nonetheless, last Wednesday we got all the diapers and chairs packed and headed down I-64 to the Hadensville exit, a short trip from our home, so I wasn’t expecting anything crazy.

But, as many of you know, life has a way of humbling you when you least expect it. Pulling through the gate, we started hearing a strange noise. I figured I’d check it out once we got situated, but that’s when the parking lot attendants at the booth pointed out that our front right tire was flat. Not just leaking air, but completely flat to the rim—nearly to the point where I was almost blocking the entire entrance for other families to get in. Talk about bad timing. Thankfully, I was able to get it pulled off to the side and out of the way so people could get through, and without damaging the rotor.

Now I’m normally not the type of person to accept help, but I immediately realized that I was pretty unprepared. I did have a spare tire, but my mind was focused squarely on the task at hand, which was surviving the evening at the drivein with three feral kids wide open off of Hershey bars and Reese’s cups. That’s when LCHS Automotive Technology Teacher Shane Robertson noticed that my family was in distress and came to save the day. He busted out his tool bag and started jacking up the truck right there in the lot to get the process started. Robertson, who was also the 2025 William G. Thomas Educator of the Year, just happened to be on site attending movie night—a fortunate coincidence given the circumstances.

To add insult to injury, the spare tire winch lock cylinder that controls the tire hoist was completely rusted and wouldn’t budge.

That’s when School Resource Officers Sgt. Harris (aka Nayboy) and Deputy Hiter also stepped in, helping remove car seats and eventually using a breaker bar to provide enough torque to turn the rusted lock. Robertson, Harris, and Hiter all went to work on our truck, not letting me lift a finger despite my best efforts—all while I was holding my two-yearold daughter, who was fast asleep through most of the chaos. They eventually got the tire on in just under 15 minutes, and did so with the finesse of a NASCAR pit crew. At the end, I offered to at least grab them something from the snack bar, but they respectfully declined. They didn’t want any type of reward or recognition, just an old-fashioned handshake.

I learned a few lessons that night—one of which is to expect the unexpected and always check your tires before every trip, regardless of distance. I’d also recommend that young folks choose auto mechanics as an elective. It may not be something that immediately piques your interest, but it is invaluable knowledge that one day may get you out of a tough spot—and maybe even make you some new friends along the way.

By the time the movie started, my ego had taken a minor hit, but my respect and appreciation for those gentlemen employed by LCPS had grown a great deal. Thanks to their selfless deed, I got to enjoy Stuart Little with my family and make it home safely.