Gavin Lees and his 8-year-old son were back in South Africa visiting family when they broke down on the N3, two people restored his faith in humanity.
This is Gavin’s story of how two men helped restore his faith in humanity. After leaving SA for greener pastures, he thought breaking down on a South African highway with his elderly parents and young son would end in tears… Technically, it did but they were happy tears. Take a read below.
I was visiting my family from Australia with my 8-year-old son and we were returning from a special outing. The car we were in (which just like my folks was getting older and needed some TLC) suddenly started losing power in the middle lane on the N3 highway somewhere between Marlboro and the infamous London road.
A gap emerged and I got into the left-hand lane before the vehicle finally surrendered and gave one final cough and then died. The cars were still flying past and I was not convinced we were safe so I got my son and parents out of the car and pushed the car to the “safety” of the emergency lane while my dad warned the oncoming traffic.
That shook us up a bit and I then started trying to wave down some assistance while my mom and dad were frantically trying to find the AA details. Of course, no phones had airtime or data so we had a problem. It seemed that no one was going to stop and who knows how long the AA would have taken to reach the scene.
Thanks to our local press and negative news clippings posted along the main roads, we all had the following thoughts racing through our heads. “Family robbed, shot after car breaks down.”
A car stopped in front of us and a black man got out and started walking towards us. Our car was smoking and we had the bonnet open and the hazards flashing wildly. The situation was looking pretty bleak and we were getting increasingly anxious.
This man who shall now be known as St. Benedict tried to assist us and get the car started. A second car stopped to assist and another young black man came towards us (we will call this man St. Edwin). My folks and I stood back as these guys tried a few tricks to get us moving. Nothing worked. We agreed our solution was to tow the car to Linksfield which was about 15 km further along the highway.
We had no tow rope between us and decided to use the available resources. Macgyer style, we fashioned a tow rope out of the two belts and attached them to the vehicles. I was left driving the towed car and was instructed not to use the brakes unless I was too close to his boot as it would snap the rope. My family got into the towing car and the third car created a buffer between us and the traffic while I was being towed. Somehow we negotiated the seemingly endless stretch of highway to Linksfield and then back home after the rope snapped.
We ended up back home nearly 3 hours after we broke down and did not know how to thank our rescuers who had unselfishly given up their own time to assist us. My mom gave our Saints the biggest hugs and broke down into tears, my dad and I shook their hands and my son thanked them for saving our lives and getting us home. They had feared for our safety. Both had families and were part-time Uber drivers and luckily for us were on their way home. The next few days the Saints contacted us and asked if we had calmed down, if Granny had stopped crying and how the little boy was doing.
Our faith in humanity and the future of South Africa was restored.
Such a wonderful story. We can stand together as South Africans