LOYAL. LOCAL. COMPLETE.
In recent years, I have found it difficult to get in the Christmas spirit. I could not tell you when it happened, but the warmth I experienced every December as a child started to dissipate – replaced by a preoccupation with the dim and bleak pastime commonly known as real life.
Maybe the departure of the Christmas spirit, like innocence lost in a child, began as I grew older and more jaded. With each passing year, my focus seemed to shift involuntarily toward gifts and holiday events rather than the people I shared them with.
It is into this internal conflict that Fred, the hero of this tale, enters. Fred, a mechanical engineer, is an unassuming man, kind in appearance, with a soft smile permanently resting on his face. Fred is also a part-time locksmith from northwestern Illinois, has no idea I’m writing this and likely does not realize the impact he had on me.
More than Rudolph, Ebenezer Scrooge or even George Bailey, Fred saved Christmas – at least for me.
When I first met Fred a couple of weeks ago, I was not a happy camper. It was two days before Christmas and my wife (Jordan) and I were preparing to meet with her side of the family. Unfortunately, the afternoon took a turn when the key to our 2018 Kia no longer unlocked the car (we purchased the car without a key fob and procrastinated ordering a replacement).
After frantically Googling for help, we stumbled upon Fred and called him. He arrived promptly just a few minutes later. Fred made quick work of the locked door, but once we were actually in the vehicle, the car would not start. As it turns out, the vehicle’s anti-theft system worked better than the car door lock.
For reasons I will soon explain, I am confident most locksmiths would have stopped here and told us to tow the car – but most locksmiths are not Fred. Fred, driven either by a fascination with mechanics or every Midwesterner’s compulsive instinct to always say yes, refused to leave us high, dry and cold.
Fred promptly disassembled our door, diagnosed the issue and reset our car door lock cylinder, which had snapped. During this process, Fred made a 20-minute round-trip home to grab a part he needed to complete the repair.
The car started promptly with a subsequent turn of the key. We thanked Fred, tipped him as best as we could and went on our merry way.
If that day had been the last time I saw Fred, his generous, kind-hearted attitude still would have stuck with me, as did his parting words.
“Whatever you do, do not lock the door,” he said jovially.
Since dealerships and repair shops were closed for Christmas, fixing the door and getting a key fob had to wait. My wife and I agreed to be extra careful to leave the car unlocked over our holiday getaway.
We delivered on our promise, until we did not.
A few days after Christmas, on our way home, we stopped at a mall in Davenport, Iowa to return a gift when tragedy struck. Jordan and I exited the car. After a brief discussion about whether we should take turns entering the mall, Jordan for the exchange and I to visit the little boys’ room, we decided to go together. I made it back to the car first, pulled the handle, and watched my own jaw drop in disbelief. I called Jordan, who quickly joined me at the car and repeated the sequence.
We had one job, and we failed miserably. We were locked out, again.
After several minutes of hushed cursing and a few tears, we started to piece together a plan. Jordan and I called every locksmith in Davenport, hoping someone could help us not only unlock the vehicle but disable the anti-theft system to start the car.
After hours of phone calls and hold times, nobody wanted to perform surgery on our car door, so we took a shot in the dark. My wife still had Fred’s number from our first encounter and shot him a plea over text asking for help.
Fred, who was working another job when we contacted him, offered to make the two-hour trek to Davenport, to fix the same mistake he warned us to avoid just a few days prior. With help on the way, Jordan and I explored the mall.
The next few hours put a lot of things in perspective. As it turns out, when you are stranded four hours from home with no transportation and nothing but time to kill, you have a lot of space to think.
Initially, I felt guilty. My wife and I were stealing Fred’s evening – time he could have spent with family enjoying the holiday, because of our own mistake.
After several laps around the mall and a brief stop at the food court for some dinner, Fred finally arrived roughly five hours after we locked ourselves out.
The first words out of his mouth?
“Sorry I took so long!”
I could not help but laugh. Fred, who traveled a third of the state’s width to help us, still had his trademark glow. As Fred worked on the door, again, we made small talk and got to know him a little bit. We learned that he spent his Christmas dressed as the Grinch for his grandkids, that he enjoys mountain biking and kayaking with his wife and that he loves working with his hands.
Ironically, that conversation taught me more about life than about Fred. On an evening when he would have been well within his rights to tell us “figure it out” and head home to his family, Fred decided to go above and beyond and help us, two strangers, find a way home that night.
Fred eventually fixed the door. Jordan and I thanked him profusely and snapped a photo with him before we parted ways.
After we started the car, a familiar warmth washed over me. I immediately recognized it – the ‘Christmas spirit’ I had longed for.
If you took away Black Friday, Cyber Monday and the other staples of a consumeristic holiday, Christmas would remain intact. In fact, the true beauty of Christmas would shine brighter.
The best gift you can hope to give or receive during the Christmas season is the gift of someone who cares enough to show up, be it a family member, a dear friend, or in my case, a stranger.
Of all the wonderful, thoughtful gifts I received this year (for which I am grateful), I treasure Fred the most, not simply because he fixed my mistake, but because he reconnected an often jaded, skeptical man with our highest shared calling as people: to show up for one another.
I realized that Christmas has appealed to me so deeply because, for one month out of the year, people choose to care for one another. It is this Christmas, this yearly glimpse into mankind’s higher calling to kindness and care, that Fred showcased to my wife and me.
Locally, there are plenty of worthwhile opportunities for residents of Edgar County to celebrate the season by showing care for our neighbors – Shop With A Cop and Community Nurse Association Christmas Baskets to name a couple.
It is certainly possible this story will not mean much to anyone other than myself, only because of my inability to properly convey Fred’s unshakable kindness. Still, I hope if nothing else, this tale allows us all to ponder our motivations, not just near Christmas, but year-round. Perhaps Fred can save Christmas for you just as he did for me this year.