As fall approached in '82 we loaded up all of our summer gear and began shuttling everything back to Millville for the school year. We vowed it would be the last time we left Mink Creek. On the last run, we packed the red Datsun station wagon chuck full of children and the "last minute" items. Everything from the fridge and freezer, to bedding, to the cat. We were loaded to the hilt and it was late at night and the car had been acting up.
   By the time we reached the "Y" in the road just on the south end of Logan, we were limping along at about 20 mph.. The kids were crying, the cat was moaning and pacing, going from window to window meowing mournfully. Her voice was my voice. We all just wanted out. We discussed what we would do if the car quit, and decided that I would sit there with the kids while Wynn hitched a ride to the house and came back with the truck and a tow strap. I kept praying the car would make it the few more miles we had to go.
   All of a sudden, the dark night was fractured by blaring streaks of red and blue light flashing in the rear view mirror and blinding everyone in the car. The eyes of the children and the cat were as big as saucers. I couldn't imagine what the officer wanted. We certainly weren't speeding.
   The officer approached scanning every window with his spotlight. The cat dug her claws into my arm as I tried to prevent her escape when Wynn rolled down his window.
   "Where are you going?" asked the officer.
   "Just back to our house in Millville," Wynn answered. "We're moving back for the school year. This is the last load."
   "You're driving erratically," said the patrolman.
   "The car is having trouble," answered Wynn. "We're just hoping we can make it the rest of the way."
   "Well, you're driving too slow for this big road. I won't give you a ticket, but I'm going to have to ask you to turn around and go back to that last road and go east and get off of this main busy highway."
   I couldn't believe it. It was close to midnight. "Busy highway???" There wasn't another car in sight; the last car to pass us was ten minutes ago. A detour down some field road was going to take us even longer. The cat hissed at him. My feelings exactly. The officer sat in his car and watched us turn around and crawl back to the other road and turn right.  Halfway through the cornfield the car sputtered and quit and there we sat. No hope of another motorist stopping to help on that little road. I honestly don't remember what happened next. I think after a short frustrated rest, the Datsun must have started again and we made it the rest of the way, but let me tell you that was not a Mink Creek kind of day. In Mink Creek that officer would have hooked up his tow strap and pulled you home and then he probably would have helped you unload the car when he got you there.