Amazing coincidence on the road

[xjwmx]

Going home from Williston to Trenton, North Dakota the other night about dusk, I saw a motorcycle and rider stranded on the side of the road. I pulled over to see if I could be of assistance.

He was just out of gas, so he found a paper cup in the ditch and I gave him some gas from my tank. He asked where I was from and I told him Kentucky. He said wow, I'm from Kentucky too; what city? Lexington. Shit, I'm from Lexington too. Where abouts? Between Burley and American, off Harrodsburg Road. Shit, my house is on Gibson on the other side of Harrodsburg Road there, behind the Thornton's. So we were neighbors. True story.

If there's a cosmic moral to it, it would be that being a good Samaritan can lead to interesting results!

 

[I am Carbon]

I got one
I was in the corp and I was walking back to the base alameda naval air station. Just out side oakland cali. oh I'm from fort myers fl. any way walking back to the base at around 23:00 and an other guy is walk away from the base. we pass each other say hi and keep on going.I think to myself I know this guy. So I turn and call out his name he stops and turns and says is that you Ed .Yep its me. He went into the navy. and 3000 miles from home we run into each other like that. Whats the odds on that one.

 

[ReycleBill]

I walked into Jubitz Truck Stop in Portland, Oregon one time and found my Daddy sitting at a table. We both lived in North Carolina. We both drove trucks for a living but that was before cell phones so we couldn't keep track of each other. The best part was we were both headed home.

I used to run into lots of drivers I knew, many of them from back home but that was because we were with the same companies and running the same routes week in and week out. At that time Daddy and I were with different companies that rarely if ever crossed paths.

 

[jd750ace]

I was on Interstate 40 on the East side of Little Rock at a rest stop with the family, and ran across one of the guys from my Flight Platoon from Fort Lewis, 6 years earlier.

We were both "in between". I was between seeing my folks in Kentucky, headed back to Texas, and he was between family in Peauto, Oklahoma, and headed back to Jackson, Mississippi. Crazy things. Ran into a fellow that worked for an outside vendor of mine in Bogota' Columbia, but we were both there for the Ejercito, so I don't guess that was a "chance" encounter, since we were both there on business.

 

[MrBillohnooo]

I grew up in southeast Missouri, and moved to Texas in 82. I was taking a southwest flight to Houston on business with a plane change in Dallas. My old next door neighbor from Mo. sat down next to me on the plane in Dallas and as luck would have it, she had moved to Amarillo also and lives 2 blocks from me on the same street!

 

[weekendrider]

Small world isn't it.

XJWMX can you see retiredgentleman out your back door?
Seems kinda backasswards. Goin south for the summer and north in the winter.
You better start packing in the taters and gravey or your goin to freeze your skinney little arse off.
Are you in the oilpatch there? Is the water source the lake? Bet the camping is nice.

 

[xjwmx]

^Ha ha. It's so far north they are literally flying Canadian flags at the buildings here. I wanted to experience a gold rush so I had to come up here.

It's a bizarre sight. The national media covers it in too sensational a way and as a result a common sight is families from Tennessee who loaded up the pickup with all their belongings and moved up here to oblivion. It's a freaky place! You need a strong oilfield or heavy equipment background to succeed, at least if the family is tagging along. People have misinterpreted the reports to mean you can make $100,000 a year with no skills. And they assume the cost of living is like back home.

 

[burns]

my two sons boarded a flight from Seattle to Houston for the funeral of my father.
purely by chance my brother was one of the flight attendants on that airplane.

 

[avenue]

In high school, I worked at the neighborhood full service gas station. The station was owned by the family that opened the doors in the early 40s and besides a few regulation updates to the pumps and a new reach in fridge for cokes, the station was not much different from when it opened. We hung out on the pump island, washed windows, checked tire pressure, fluids, and such. It was a pretty cool spot.

Anyway, I'm at work one saturday morning, washing windows and pumping gas, when an older gent, probably in his late 60s, early 70s, business suit and all, walks up to the station with a slight grin on his face, looking around at the station, up at the original sign on the corner, and eventually approaches me. He starts telling me about his childhood growing up down the street, riding his bike to the station for a shot of air in his tires and a coke, and how the station owner lived just down the street. I tell him the owner, now in his early nineties, still lives down the street and we even pump his gas once every few weeks.

He goes on to tell me about growing up in a house two blocks away. "Oh yeah?" I inquire. "I live just down the street," I tell him.
"yup, just down the street," he points. "2514, my dad built the small garage and the bedroom addition just above it. He was a TX Aggie and finished the new bathroom with maroon tiles just to spite the UT Longhorn neighbors. It was the bedroom where I grew up. I'm here on a business trip from the midwest and had to swing by the old neighborhood. Haven't been back in over 40 years."

He started to explain more but I had to interrupt and properly introduce myself.

The street, house, and even bedroom the guy was describing was where I grew up. I had even ridden my bicycle that morning from his old garage. "The bathroom tile is still Aggie maroon," I let him know. He ended up walking down the street and hanging out in the backyard with my folks for a hour or so under the huge oak tree that he remembers being much shorter, he later told me.

 

[Downeaster]

A bit of background:

I graduated from a middlin' large high school, something like 400 kids in my graduating class. I was a bit of a loner/geek/loser, glad to graduate, never looked back.

I joined the Navy the following February, and spent the first year in school, Advanced Electronics. I was guaranteed one of six ratings if I graduated from Electronics Class "A" school. Entirely through random happenstance, I wound up being a Communications (later Cryptologic) Technician. It was a very, very small corner of the Navy, perhaps 1500 of us in all branches, officers included. All very classified, compartmented clearances, special background investigations, the works. With the advancements in technology, most of that community has been absorbed into other ratings, and many of the rates and most of the duty stations don't even exist today.

Imagine my surprise that over the course of my 22 years in that community, I met not one but THREE of my classmates, one of whom went to the same church I did as a kid, and was actually in the same confirmation class with me. I had no idea he was even in the Navy, much less a CT until I'd been in something like 8 years. I wound up being stationed with him at one duty station, and stationed with another female classmate at another.

Small world...