Hi -
I think this fits under this topic...even though the breakdown wasn't mine.
In the early 70's, a friend and I were returning from a coffee house in the Hudson Valley (I can't remember the town...) I was headed back to Rhinebeck and would drop my buddy off in Hyde Park on the way home.
Along the Taconic Parkway, headed north, we encountered a broken down car. Being your normal small-town kids, we stopped to see if we could help the drivers. It was a couple of guys who were obviously from "the city" (NYC) and they were flummoxed. Their car wouldn't start and they didn't know why...though one of them thought (for no apparent reason) that it was the battery.
It was dealing with the battery that changed this from a simple encounter to something different.
My buddy didn't see this, but as I was talking with one of the guys, with the hood up, he pulled out a .45 automatic and began hammering the battery terminals with the butt on the gun. Having grown up around guns, this seemed like a very bad idea.
I urged him to stop, which he did, and then said we'd better go "down the road" to a place I knew that was open and could help.
We jumped back in my car. My friend Jim, still unaware that we were dealing with gun-toting nutballs, was surprised (as was everyone, I hoped) that I took off down the TSP like a bat out of hell! (edited for content)
We got to the next exit, where a small roadhouse sort of place still had its sign lit.
As soon as the two (individuals) were out of the car, I peeled out and never looked back....
Suffice to say, I have never stopped to be a good samaritan since then...
Ron
TheAmericanRoadside.com