Ordinary Angels

A collaboration post by: Raffa's Papa & Mama

In 2020, Jennalise and I moved out of our apartment and we said goodbye to New York City. We packed up our old Toyota 4Runner that we bought at the beginning of Covid, when the whole city had shut down, and began our cross country journey. We experienced a number of memorable highlights along the way, but one particularly beautiful stop was a place called Meadowlark Lake. It’s a serene, crystal clear lake high in the Big Horn Canyon mountains of Wyoming. When we pulled up we were starving. We dove into our meager lunch of potato chips and Trader Joe’s beans. Clearly we hadn’t planned the food portion of the trip very well. Like predictable New Yorkers, we assumed there would be a convenient cafe or bodega at every stop no matter how remote. We glanced over to a shiny Airstream Camper, looking more like a blimp on wheels, and saw a German couple fixing an extremely elaborate picnic. We were wallowing in the depths of profound picnic envy, but told ourselves we would be back one day with our own silver camper to have our own special picnic on this most majestic lake. 

Meadowlark Lake

Fast forward four summers and we accidentally found ourselves back at the very same lake, but this time, under far more harrowing conditions. Earlier that day we had left the Black Hills Forest of South Dakota and were making a two day drive to meet Jenna’s parents at Yellowstone. We knew we were going to have to break somewhere for an overnight pit stop, but we weren’t exactly sure where we would end up. We knew there were a couple of campsites along the way and we would see how far we could make it until we needed to stop for a meal and a snooze. As the sun was going down, nature called and I quickly pulled off the highway into a parking lot. To our amazement, it suddenly dawned on us that we had just stumbled upon the very same parking lot at the edge of Meadowlark Lake all those summers ago! Except this time the late summer sun was disappearing through the trees, leaving the most magnificent golden light skipping across the perfectly still lake. We were elated, yet sentimental, that we somehow inadvertently kept our promise to return. 

We noticed up on the ridge there were some campers parked on a bluff with what seemed to be the best views of the lake. We swung our trailer around, laughing at our good fortune that we found such a spectacular and meaningful campsite. I was driving slowly along the path looking for a great spot, but all of them were occupied. We reached the end of the road heading into a round-about to flip around. As I was making the turn, I was overcome by the beauty of the lake and the sky, crimson and purple, marveling as the sun’s last light poked through the forest. I joked with Jenna, “Maybe we should park it here!” Before I could finish eating my words, I checked my left side mirror and saw that I cut the turn way too tight. I watched in horror as our trailer, now already off the road, went tumbling into a massive ditch. The back wheels went crashing down into a cluster of boulders left over from the Jurassic period. The wheels crunched and bent as if they were soda cans. The air in the tires came streaming out like a steam engine. We jumped out of our truck stunned and speechless and watched powerless as our whole rig started to ominously tip to one side. I started flipping out, belting out profanities like we were back in New York. We are literally watching a car crash in slow motion. Except it was our home on wheels, our little traveling sanctuary, crumbling down before us. We couldn’t help but sense the parallel between  Raffa and his sudden departure from our lives, and this new disaster that was rapidly approaching. One moment we were overjoyed by the beauty of life, and the next we were swallowed up by a ditch. But sometimes G-d has other plans. Miraculously, the trailer held firm as the tipping came to an unsettling halt. One half of it was three feet in the air and the other half, was mangled awkwardly, trapped in the ditch between two massive boulders. 

We heard the damage before we saw it and we knew it was going to be bad. As we got out of the truck to survey the damage the gravity of what had just happened hit us both. At any moment our trailer, sixteen tons and all, could fall directly on its side into the ditch. This wasn’t just any “travel trailer.” We were looking at our only home, perilously hanging at the edge of total disaster. Michael started to run around with his hands on his head, a slew of choice words coming out of his mouth. I started pacing around saying, “ok, ok, ok, ok, oh man, oh no, this is bad, ok, we have to stay calm.” Suddenly Michael yelled out, “I have to go find help!” I didn’t even have a chance to respond before he was sprinting off like a bolt of lightning. The sun was beginning to set and it was clear that we would soon be facing this catastrophe in the dark. I didn’t know what to do other than pray. So as I stood on the road looking out at the lake with Sunny I began to ask God for help. I said, “God we need help. Only You can help us right now. Please send Your angels to hold up our trailer, and send your people to help us. We can’t do this alone. Even though it seems impossible, please make it possible for us to get to my parents tomorrow.” My prayer was deeply rooted in faith because since we lost Raffa, I had already seen the many times God’s hand would come down to pull us out of utter darkness. This situation, while difficult, was nothing compared to what we had faced before, and I knew it was nothing for God. 

High up in the mountains meant zero cell service. I ran through the campsite asking if someone had a phone that would work. I was met with a lot of backwoods blank stares. I was beginning to panic. I left Jenna with the trailer and went sprinting down the highway where I thought we had passed some sort of lodge. I managed to catch them just before they closed reception. The atmosphere was a kind of a rowdy bar slash dinner lounge slash rustic lodge. My frantic demeanor wasn’t really vibing with the place but they were kind enough to let me use their wifi and the one-and-only phone line. I dialed a bunch of tow services till I found a guy two and half hours away in a town called Gillette. He said he could be there in the morning with a brand new wheel. We already had a spare mounted to the back of the trailer. All we needed was one extra wheel and some way to pull us out of this boulder-ridden ditch. The gentleman on the phone was super confident he could find that replacement wheel and come bring it in the morning. With that I hung up and held onto a small morsel of hope. I ran back to Jennalise to tell her the news. 

Up to this point, we had some rather intense and stressful moments living on the road. Jennalise had to battle many episodes of PTSD and trauma. This ditch we had found ourselves in was by far the most dramatic event of our trailer life. Coupled with the fact that Jenna’s parents, Kim and Lois had drove the whole day from the Okanagan and were planning to meet us in  Yellowstone sometime tomorrow afternoon, the timing of such an accident couldn’t have been worse. Despite the intensity, it was Jenna who managed to be steady and calm. I was the one unravelling…

I was standing alone in the dark, when a man approached me with a flashlight. He was camping at a spot nearby and he came to see the damage. He was willing to help but his outlook was incredibly negative. I quietly disagreed and repeated to myself, “we’ll find a way.” Shortly, after he left, a jeep drove up and out emerged three men. They assessed the situation with such kindness, compassion, and resolve that we could find a solution. Their presence filled me with hope. Ready to jump in the ditch, they asked how they could help. I thanked them but suggested we should wait for Michael to return before we made a plan. So they patiently waited with me, offering words of encouragement, but most of all they made it clear they were in this with us. It’s a rare gift to meet people in life who will get into a ditch with you so you can climb out together. I knew immediately they were the answer to my prayer.

Before I had reached the trailer, I was stopped by an elderly gentlemen. He had a reliable kindness in his eyes. He introduced himself as Mark and he told me his friends, Steve and Mike were here to help. Grateful for their support I asked if they had a shovel. Amazingly, he did. I ran back to Jenna and told her the plan for tomorrow. She said she was just praying for help and in rolled these three guys plus an off duty park ranger from Yellowstone. Together, in the darkness we all gawked at our Piza-like trailer leaning precariously to one side. Any hope of getting it out seemed Ethan Hunt-esq impossible

The first step was to raise the trailer out of the ditch. This was only possible with a nifty feature called an auto-leveler. Essentially, these legs lower down from the base of the trailer and push into the ground to lift and level the unit when parked. This is useful with uneven services, but ditches were unapologetically ill-advised. We started by moving earth and rock under the levelers to create an even-ish platform. Once secure, we lowered the levelers on the one side and were able to lift the rig up above the boulders. I was a little concerned because if the janky platforms gave out, the trailer would come crashing down. Jenna had already mentioned the angels and at this point, we were counting on them.

We managed to man-handle one of the boulders out of the way, however the giant one that remained, was hopelessly heavy. One of the gentlemen hopped into his Jeep that remarkably had a wench on the front. We hooked it up around the boulder. Like a nasty pimple that sucker popped out of the earth. While that was happening, I hadn’t noticed that Steve had already pulled off our spare tire from the back and quickly swapped it with the front broken tire (dual axel). Next, we needed to build up earth from the ditch to the main road so that when we lowered the trailer off the levels we could theoretically drive it on our makeshift ramp right out of the ditch. Sounds simple right? 

We shoveled and moved some heavy rocks but it was far from secure. If our ramp gave out, it would be bye-bye trailer with us running for our lives. I asked one of the guys if they had a 2x6 piece of wood or something similar. Mike disappears off into the darkness and miraculously comes back with a solid piece of wood, thick like a plank. My mind was blown! 

So we placed it on top of our rock pile and our ramp was complete. After two hours, our moment of truth was upon us. I hopped back into the truck while one of the guys hit the button that lowers the trailers off its levels. I was sweating as I looked in the side mirror, praying the whole thing wasn’t just going to topple over. As soon as the front tire was touching the ramp, I slowly pulled forward being sure to keep my wheel straight. I kept my eyes on Steve waving me forward. 

That short drive was certainly the longest eight feet I’ve ever driven. I can’t tell you the kind of relief and celebration that came over us as we cleared the ramp. I fell out of the truck in a daze. Mark was there with a big grin on his face. We were all laughing and cheering in the dark, elated with our victory over the ditch. I gave the biggest hug to Jenna while Mark came over to check in on us. We thanked them all profusely for their unwavering, rock-solid, generous spirit in our time of need. Jennalise shared with them the magnitude of our journey. She told them about Raffa and of our devastation. And how he was the beginning to the road that we were navigating. We told them how their help was an answer to prayer and a revitalizing shot of faith when we had very little left. Mark, with tears welling up in those kind eyes, said he lost his baby brother when he was six years old. The three of them wrapped their arms around us and gave us the most honest prayer I’ve ever heard. We had tears streaming down our faces and despite the hardship of overcoming the dramatic events of the evening, we knew the struggle was worth it to arrive at such a meaningful moment. 

Our new friends, Mark, Steve and Mike, said goodnight but insisted we come to their campsite in the morning and meet their wives and share a big breakfast. 

That night we laid in bed in the trailer, overcome by the goodness of God and how He was already answering my prayer before I even prayed it. The next morning, as the sun rose on the lake we strolled over to our new friends’ campsite and found the most lovingly prepared breakfast we had ever seen. There were glasses for orange juice and champagne, warm fresh biscuits and jam, eggs, fruit salad, and elk steak from one of Steve’s hunting adventures. All of it lovingly prepared and set across a colorful picnic table. Our new friends radiated God’s love, and we felt wrapped in His love with each hug, smile, and laugh they extended our way. 

The view of our stranded trailer in the morning light

Despite our triumph over the ditch the previous night, we still had a busted up wheel to tend to. After a series of long phone calls at the lodge it was decided that the only solution was a blow torch and sledge hammer to knock the wheel back in shape and pump it full of air and pray it would hold. It seemed sketchy but it was our one and only option. Just before sunset the repair team arrived and to our amazement they repaired the rim in five minutes. 

Before we knew it we were off back on the road. We drove over to say our goodbyes to our new friends, and they sent us on our way with plates full of spaghetti, and best of all, cherry cobbler for dessert. As we pulled away I looked at them standing there, with the sun setting behind them, waving at us as we drove away. I thought about a movie we had watched when I was pregnant with Raffa, it was called Ordinary Angels. It told the story of ordinary people who do extraordinary things to help others. In the rearview mirror I looked at the ordinary angels that had shown us their love and I thanked God for answering my prayer to ‘send His angels’ and to ‘send His people’. We knew He did both.

A snapshot of us enjoying music with our new friends at their campsite

On the road again... to Yellowstone

We drove the last leg of the journey to Yellowstone that night, in the dark. At one point we played chicken with a lone Bison wandering far from home (but that’s a story for another day). As we pulled into our campsite at 1:30 in the morning, we were overwhelmed with gratitude, reflecting on the incredible events and people God had put into play to help us in our time of need.

For so long it had just been Michael and I on the road, surviving. Surviving the pain, surviving the trauma, surviving the brokenness, and God saw our need for support, even when we didn’t. Our new friends lovingly walked with us throughout the entire day. They simply sat with us, encouraged us, communicated on our behalf when needed, and made it clear that they were with us. We look back and see that they were there to pull us out of more than one ditch. They also reached down to us in the depths of dark grief and pain. They each took time during their holiday to reach down and say ‘how can I help?’. That’s the thing about being in a ditch, you need someone to reach into your situation and say, I’m with you, and no matter what it takes, we’re going to get you out. That’s what each couple did for us, they loved us through action. Giving help, and receiving help, saying a prayer or being the answer to a prayer, each hold a special blessing. For us the hands that reached down to us are relationships we hold onto for life. We hope this story will encourage you that anyone, anywhere, can be an ordinary angel, all you have to do is say to God ‘Here I am, send me’.

Then I heard the voice of Adonai saying,

“Whom should I send? Who will go for us?”

I answered, “I’m here, send me!”

Isaiah 6:8

Our first visit to Meadowlark Lake in July 2020

We took our photo right before we left to Yellowstone- September 2024