In the late 1940s my husband Frank and I were driving late at night on a
deserted road in the mountains near Chattanooga when we had a flat tire.
Because of the rocky road edge, Frank was unable to brace the car and
change the tire.
Out of the night a car appeared.
Two of the biggest, roughest-looking bearded men I'd ever seen got out.
With powerful hands they steadied the car,
swiftly changed the tire, and drove off.
They had not uttered a word.
In 1952, Frank was a Naval officer stationed in Europe. We were driving with our family through thick fog in the Swiss Alps when a gap in the road, about six feet wide and four feet deep, confronted us. Night was coming on, so Frank walked the others down to the next village. Since all our belongings were in the car, I stayed behind. I waited. Nervously I tried to pray. The words of Psalm 91 came to mind: "For He shall give His angels charge over thee. They shall bear thee up in their hands..." And then I blurted out, "Lord, send some of Your angels. Please."
A truck suddenly appeard. Out of it piled six big, rought-looking bearded men. Without speaking, they picked up their truck and carried it across the washout. Then with strong, powerful hands they picked up my car - with me in it - carried it across the trench, and set it safely on the other side. They never said a word, and disappeared into the night.
I drove into the village of Brig, where I found my family. Nobody in the village could imagine who those men wee. All I knew was that they had come, and they had borne me up "in their hands."
Who are these silent men? Will they have reason to help us - again?
Mary Hattan Bogart, Erwin, Tennessee
