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An Unseasonably Warm Winter Night

by Allen Thompson

I thought a good old heart-warming holiday story would be the best way to bring my Community Perspectives columns to an end, since I will be retiring as sheriff at the end of the year.  Way back when my kids called me “nocturnal” and I worked only night shifts, I was patrolling the streets of Sheridan during an early season snow storm.  The blizzard had dropped over a foot of powder all over the town and roads were a sheet of ice under the piling snow.  I came across an older model pickup with only one operational headlight.  At least it looked like a headlight, but it was pointing vertical into the blinding flurry.  As it passed by me, I noticed heavy front-end damage that looked recent.  Before I could get turned around to stop the driver, the truck pulled over.  

When I went up to contact the driver, he told me he just hit a tree after getting lost in the snow storm.  We limped his truck to a local retail store parking lot and he jumped in with me to find where he wrecked.  He was a very nice young man, barely 18, on the downhill side of a cross country trip from the east coast to Great Falls, MT.  He was newly married and was hauling all his worldly possessions to Malmstrom AFB where his wife was stationed with the Air Force.  We found the crash scene, a sharp corner and a sturdy old apple tree that did a number on his 1970’s model Ford.  After I took pictures and was done with my investigation he asked politely if he could use my flashlight.  I gave it to him and watched as he dug through the piles of snow with an ungloved hand, obviously searching for something.  When asked, the man explained that he had lost his wedding ring earlier while picking up various truck parts.  We all know the shrinkage that cold snow can do to your hands and I had two simultaneous thoughts; he was never going to find that ring and he was never going to live it down with his new wife.  I dug out my other flashlight and we made a valiant effort, but we didn’t find the ring.  

A few weeks later we had an unusual warm spell and within a couple days all the snow melted.  I happened to drive by the crash scene, lost in my own thoughts, and I lazily glanced over at that old apple tree (divine intervention?).  The yard was completely free of snow and there was a glistening glow from a full moon illuminating the frost blanketing the low-cut grass.  Hmm, I wonder?!  I parked, walked toward the tree and strained to remember where that young man had been digging so diligently.  I dropped my light to ground level and started to swing a wide horizontal arc in an effort to catch the shine of silver and not be overwhelmed by the disco ball effect of the frost.  I’ll be danged, there it was!  

I dropped the ring in the mail a few hours later and it arrived just before Christmas.  I even got a nice thank you card confirming he got it.  I still feel all these years later that a Higher Power was guiding my car past that old apple tree one unseasonably warm night.

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Originally published in The Sheridan Press

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