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Stewardship, Blowouts, and Grace
By Derek | September 14, 2026
I’d like to tell y’all our (mis)adventures from last Saturday.
We had planned to go to Stockdale (about 4.5 hours away) to meet up with some friends who were having their combined 50th birthday party. We figured if we were going to drive all that way, we’d take our vacuum to our friend’s shop in Kerrville to get it serviced, as well. Kerrville is a little out of the way, but not by more than a half hour or so. It’s about 2.5 hours away from us, which would leave us about another 2.5 hours to get to Stockdale, for a party that starts around 2 PM.
So, we left the house at about 8:30 AM, to go into Brownwood first, put gas in the car, then head south on highway 377 towards Kerrville.
Just about an hour later, a bit north of Brady, we had a blowout. The passenger side rear tire went. Now, of course, we’re doing 70-75 mph, and it’s starting to get really, really hot, so I guess these things happen. We immediately pulled off the road, in the middle of nowhere, and I started pulling the stuff out of the car to change the tire.
This car passes us, then turns around and heads back. It’s a Nissan Altima. The guy pulls up in front of us, steps out, and asks if we need help. I had just gotten the spare and the scissor jack out, I hadn’t even started jacking up the car yet.
I said, sure, thanks, man! He goes to his trunk, and pulls out his floor jack, and his impact wrench, and then doesn’t even let me change the tire!
Their family was from Stephenville, on their way into Brady to visit family.
In just a few minutes, he has the donut spare on, and we’re ready to get back on the road again. He says they’ll follow us into town to ensure we make it.
In Brady, there’s exactly one tire shop open on Saturday, and they have exactly one tire that’s the correct size for our car. So we bought it, and started our journey again.
We made it down highway 377 to the highway 783 exit, then down past Doss and Harper. About 10 miles outside of Kerrville, the driver’s side rear tire decides to blow out.
Again, we pull off the road immediately, in the middle of nowhere, except for a couple of buildings on our side of the road. So I pull just pass a driveway, to ensure that I won’t block whoever lives there, and again, start pulling stuff out to change the tire.
On the other side of the road, from the direction we’re traveling, a guy pulls up in his Toyota Tacoma, and asks if we need help. Again, I say, sure, thanks!
He says, “You need to get your car off the road,” — there honestly wasn’t much of a shoulder were we were — “why don’t you pull into my driveway next to my boat, and we’ll get you fixed up.”
Then he proceeds to check his mail, jump back in his truck, and pull into his driveway. So we pull in, right next to his boat, as directed.
He goes into his shop, grabs his floor jack, and his impact wrench, and then changes the tire for me! Again, we thanked him profusely, and got back on our way.
At this point, we’re worried about the front tires, too, so we decide to go ahead and drop off our vacuum, first, since it’s now nearly one o’clock, and our buddy’s vacuum shop closes at one, then go straight to Discount Tire, and have them replace the driver’s rear, and also check the front tires.
At Discount Tire, the reality hit me. The tech checked the date codes and noted they were over nine years old. While the tread looked decent, the rubber was brittle and dry-rotted. We’d been focused on how much use the tires had (only about 1,000 miles this year), but ignored the reality of time. It’s a common mistake: assuming that what looks functional is actually safe. It was a humbling reminder that maintenance isn’t just about utility; it’s about stewardship of the vehicle you rely on.
Our mistake.
We went ahead and got three new tires for the car, but we weren’t able to make the trip to Stockdale, since our car wasn’t ready until nearly 4 PM. That would have put us in Stockdale closer to 6:30 PM, which is about the time we would have needed to leave there in order to make the drive home. The straight shot from Stockdale to home alone would have been about another four and a half hours, not including the time we’d already spent. That would simply get us home too late in the evening, and would have us driving primarily after dark, which is a bit uncomfortable in a smaller car.
So, we headed home on our four brand new tires, thankful for our two independent Good Samaritans, who had the correct tools, the competence, and the willingness to use them to help their fellow man.
God Bless Texas!
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