It was the fall of 1982 and my to-be husband was visiting his parents, 1 1/2 hours away. I was driving home from a going-away party for a co-worker. I was about halfway home, in a very dark and secluded part of the interstate, when my transmission died. I had my hood up and my flashers going, but all the cars passed me by without stopping. This was, of course, pre cell phones. I was nervous and tired. As I cursed the world for my situation, a car pulled over. It was a couple coming home from a party. They asked where I was going (20 miles from where I was), and I said any distance would be fine. As we pulled off the interstate they asked where I lived. After giving them directions, I found them driving a different direction. In fear, I brought this to their attention. The woman turned and said, "I'm sorry, didn't we tell you?" The gentlemen was a local police officer. I was home, safe. And grateful!