He Made A Way Of Escapeby Rena Blake Dillman

It was a cold January day in l976. I had just finished my day shift nursing job and was feeling a bit down. It was Friday, my last day of work for approximately six weeks. I was scheduled for gall bladder surgery on Monday and had mixed feelings about this surgery. I would be glad to be free of the pain and nausea but dreaded having to go through the surgery. I had put it off for four years and had not felt well for several months.

I rode to work each day with two ladies who worked at a nearby factory. One of the ladies just lived down the street, and it worked out well for all of us to ride together. I climbed into the back seat of the car, and we all agreed it was good to be going home after a rough week at work to enjoy a quiet weekend.

We drove the short distance from the nursing facility where I worked onto the highway. After driving only a short distance, the driver of our car looked back and commented on the closeness of the car behind us. I suddenly had cold chills, and the hair on my body stood up. I had this unexplainable urge to scoot down in my seat feeling as if a gun was pointed at my head. I could hardly breathe; I was so frightened. Just as I started to say something to the others, the car following us quickly pulled to the side of our car. It was then I looked up into the most evil face I had ever seen.

The face belonged to a young person. I couldn’t tell if it was the face of a male or female. Their hair was short and messy. They were wearing a white shirt with no coat. The window was down, and they were yelling obscenities. Their arm was resting on the edge of the window while the other hand balanced a large pistol pointed at the head of my friend who was driving. They yelled that we were going to die. The driver was laughing and kept his speed the same as our car. We could not get in front or behind him. I told my friend to not look at them but to keep looking straight ahead while driving her best. My other friend and I started praying while trying to figure out our next step. We knew the gun could go off at any moment, and our driver could be dead and our car out of control. A car finally came down the highway on their side, and we saw them speed ahead and pull off the road only to get behind us and then beside us again. The threats continued. This happened several times, and we knew we had to do something. We prayed together – “Oh God, help us. We don’t want to die here on the highway like this. Please God, show us what to do.” I knew what we needed to do, but it would take all the courage we could muster. We didn’t have much time to think about it. Our escape was just ahead.

Two weeks prior to this incident, my husband and our two small boys picked me up from my nursing job around midnight on Saturday. I always worked the 3pm-11pm shifts on weekends in order to attend church on Sunday morning. It was a really nasty night with a lot of snow. My husband decided he would take me to work and then pick me up. We lived about sixteen miles from my work place. We were about five miles from our home when a tire went flat. My husband got out of the car and tried to loosen the lug nuts on the wheel, but they wouldn’t budge. He tried for quite a long time until realizing we needed help. It was well past midnight. Our boys were asleep in the backseat oblivious to our situation.

There was a house across the road. My husband told me to sit tight, and he would see if someone at the house could help us. He knocked on the door. A man came, and my husband explained our situation. He asked my husband to step inside while he got his coat. Then he helped my husband change the tire. After they got the tire changed, he asked him to come inside and wash his hands. Don noticed a note pad on the desk of their home. He picked it up and wrote Matthew 25:40 - “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” The man read the note and shared he too was a Christian and drove their church bus every Sunday morning. My husband then told him I was a nurse and traveled this highway every day, and he was thankful I had not been by myself with a flat tire. He told my husband that if I ever needed their help for anything to feel free to stop. We drove on home that night with thankful hearts. Our flat tire had happened in front of this welcoming home, not miles away where my husband would have had to walk for help or wait for someone to come along to help us. My husband shared about their conversation and the offer of the man to be of assistance if ever needed.

Now we were quickly approaching this same house, and I told the ladies of my plan.  I knew God was directing me.  We were in a two-door car.  I was in the back.  Timing was everything.  The house was just ahead.  I told the driver to somehow get ahead of the pursuing car and pull quickly in front of the house and let me out to run up, knock on the door and identify myself.  There was no time to think about being afraid or possibly being gunned down.  We made our move and slammed on the brakes in front of the house.  I jumped out of the car and ran to the door and pounded on it.  The woman, who had never met me, came to the door with a small baby in her arms.  I yelled, “I am Rena Dillman, the lady who had the flat tire in front of your home, and we are being chased and threatened with a gun.  She motioned for us to come inside then slammed and quickly shut and locked the door.  The young people in the car watched us as we all ran inside. They did a U turn and revved their engine trying to decide, I’m sure, what to do next.

We asked her to call the police as quickly as she could while shaking so badly we could hardly talk. It seemed like only a few minutes passed before the sheriff’s officers arrived. We recounted our story and described the vehicle as well as the two young people. We were told to stay put until they apprehended them. A sheriff’s deputy stayed with us. In a matter of minutes they had them in custody. They were on their way to jail, and we were free to go. We couldn’t thank this compassionate woman enough. We were all still in shock. We opened the door and walked out. One of the ladies said, “Look at the sky. Isn’t that just about the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” The sun had curiously peered its face through the clouds as if God was telling us we would be OK. We were all just in awe of its beauty. It was like God was smiling at us. It had a calming and peaceful effect as we drove home.

Of course, they wanted to know how in the world I knew to stop at that house.   There had been no time to explain our previous encounter with these wonderful people.  It was like a bad dream, and we were trying to figure it all out.  We pulled up in front of my house, and I went inside.  The realization of what just happened hit.  I started to shake uncontrollably.  My children were still at the babysitters, and I was alone.  I called my husband’s office and asked his secretary if I could please speak to him.   When he got on the phone all I could say was, “Can you please come home, NOW?”  When he got home, all I could say was “just hold me.”  I finally got the story out but shook for hours.  Fear had taken over, and I was convinced these people were after our family and would be coming at any time.  My husband called the sheriff’s department, and they assured us that they were in custody.  The gun was not a real gun but an air pistol.  The sheriff said it looked so real that had they pointed it at him he would have fired back.  They were 16 and 14 years old, had skipped school and were drunk and high on drugs.  They had picked us out for a little fun.  He assured us again that we were safe.  The court declared that since they were juveniles we would need to determine whether or not to press charges.  We chose not to.  They were ordered to get counseling, and we prayed for their needs.

I checked into the hospital.  Gallbladder surgery was not nearly as scary as having a gun pointed at your head.   I had a lot of time to think about what had happened that day while recuperating.  I was overwhelmed by it all.  God had provided a way of escape before I even needed it.  He had given me a safe house and caring people by way of a flat tire on a snowy January night.  He had moved upon my husband to take me to work instead of personally driving the car and being alone.  I doubt if I would have gone up to that door alone.  God had given a way for us even when we were unaware of his providence.   This was a life changing experience for all of us.  Why did this happen?  I’ve asked myself that so many times.  I’ve wondered on many occasions what happened to the two young people who had terrorized us that day.  I truly believe our steps are ordered of the Lord, and He walks with us each and every step of the way.

Special Note:  Shirley, the driver of our car, recently died after serving the community of Hope in many wonderful ways.  I have vivid memories of her driving down the highway with the car radio blasting her favorite country songs.  She would sing along and pound out the rythym on the steering wheel while I would sit in the back seat thinking no one should be that energetic at 6:00 am.  When remembering her, I see this great big smile as if the happiness inside her just had to burst forth.  Like the other passenger Euna, I am not a morning person.  It took awhile for our smiles to break forth and be a blessing to others.   By sharing her exuberance for life, Shirley always made sure we eventually had smiles on our faces.  I miss those smiles!

Rena Blake Dillman (revised June 2005)