Life Lesson Learned at Muskegon State Park

Yours truly in hiking mode at Muskegon (MI) State Park (photo by Heather Stamper).

During a July vacation excursion to Michigan, my wife and I began a thought-provoking conversation.  One early morning in our hotel room, we discussed how people generally didn't give much consideration for their fellow humans anymore.  Our conversation ranged from competitive road rage behavior and people having an unrelated conversation on their mobile phones at the front of a busy line to economic policies shaping up to exclude large swaths of the populace.

Of course, this isn't the type of talk you want to dwell on for long during a vacation.  Stuff like that is a big reason you need a break.  We dropped the dorm room talk and headed for some self-serve continental breakfast.

Breakfast brought back the issue.  A man of large girth and his family lined up at the waffle maker, putting their gourmet touches on the batter heading for the hot griddle, in the meantime cutting half the diners off from being able to choose the healthier whole grain cereal and yogurt options nearby.  Many were even blocked from being able to sit down.  The bleak outlook of man talk returned, compliments of a big, fat rude dude.

The talk shifted to class warfare and survival of the species.  I discussed the increased inequity of wealth and drop in charitable donations during and after the Great Recession.  I worried about shrinking state and federal programs reducing the amount of aid for infirm people, and unglamorous infrastructure projects which could lead to long-term job growth, just two examples of problems only a government has enough scope to tackle.  Heather referred to Jesus' call to cast your bread on the waters, something that holds up whether you are a Christian or a Social Darwinist--sharing some wealth and giving of yourself, even if the motivations are really long-term personal fulfillment and species survival.

Sensing it was time for a mind-clearing beach walk, we headed for nearby Muskegon State Park, a peaceful place with clean white sand and clear Lake Michigan water lapping on the shore.  But we didn't get there for a while.

While thinking I had found an entrance for parking with some sand blow-over, I nose dived our Nissan Cube into a big drift.  Fortunately, two wheels were still on the paved road, but the front-wheel drive vehicle was hopelessly stuck in several feet of sand.  We passed the ranger station about a mile before the beach and we were readying ourselves for the long walk and a call to AAA for a tow.

Heather saw a family gathering at a nearby park beach house.  She approached them and two vehicles soon approached the Cube, one a group of young adults in a Jeep Liberty with Michigan plates, and grandparent-aged visitors from New York driving an Audi Quattro SUV.  With double-tied ropes secured under the Cube's rear bumper, the latter vehicle pulled us from the sand.  Our car was fully operational and there was no damage.

Our Good Samaritans wanted nothing in return, except some information on our unique-looking car, and never said how stupid we were, and never passed any judgements in general.  They even reassured us that they've seen similar incidents at the same park.  There was no class warfare here, no people ignoring someone in need.

This is just one event and one set of lives.  No cataclysmic situation would've happened in the long run, but one day of vacation for us, if not all of it, was saved by the kindness of others.

You could argue the inherent good nature of man.  I would argue as a believer isn't it just like God to address almost every major point of our earlier conversation into the microcosm of this small event.  But I think we can all agree:  isn't it an amazing and useful thing when we try to help one another.