Last Saturday evening, after a great day spending time at a friend’s family reunion, dropping in at the Veterans Social Center and making a trek up to get a taste of my childhood at Frankie’s Chicken across from the Freightliner plant with a friend I grew up with, I made my way home exhausted.

My trek was interrupted, and I had to take a detour as my rear passenger side tire seemed to be as exhausted as I was.

I thought it would be an easy quick stop at a convenience store gas station to put some air back in the tire, but the universe had other plans for me.

After visiting four separate locations in search of free air, I finally dug down between and under the seats to come up with six quarters to put in the machine.

When did it become OK to charge for something we do naturally every day?

As I knelt down completing the task, I noticed a silver shiny nail buried down in the tread resting comfortably in the middle of the tire.

The sun was setting, and I was tired, but I sat there at the air pump negotiating with myself if I should just go home and hope the tire would hold its breath overnight and remain inflated.

Good sense won out and I called my friend, Mitch Litaker, who owns a car repair garage.

He was closed but said he would wait for me to bring it over.

What I didn’t realize was that I was going to receive more than just a tire repair. I ended up having one of the most inspirational conversations that made my fun day end on a beautiful note.

As he was pulling out the jack and getting the essentials together needed to plug the tire, I noticed he was walking with a limp and a somewhat unsteady gait.

I knew he had been involved in a serious workplace accident and had called him afterwards to let him know I was praying for him, but I hadn’t seen him since.

I didn’t want to seem like I was being nosey, so I asked him simply how he was doing.

For the next half hour, I sat and listened to a man with a renewed soul and a new lease on life openly share how thankful and grateful he was to be standing upright and breathing.

After he finished plugging the tire, we sat down on a row of chairs at the front of his building, and he recounted his near death experience that occurred back in early December of last year.

As he was working on a customer’s car that was high up in the air on the lift, without any warning, the 4,000-pound car fell off the lift and crashed down on top of him, pinning him from the chest down.

His voice trembled as he shared how he laid there for nearly 15 minutes with the car on top of him struggling to breathe but never losing consciousness.

The paramedics lifted the car up enough to pull him out, rushed him to the local hospital and eventually to Presbyterian in Charlotte for surgery.

He ran his hand up and down and around his body like an invisible wand demonstrating that every bone from under his rib cage down to his legs and feet were crushed and broken.

Fast forward to today, he survived and after multiple surgeries where they inserted plates and pins inside him, he’s walking without assistance.

He shared that the doctors who worked on him said they’ve never seen anyone survive this type of accident, let alone walk again.

As we sat watching the sun go down and continued to talk, he said God had his hands on him and credits his faith in Him for sparing his life and allowing him to walk again.

He said his entire outlook on life has changed and he’s a different person since recovering. He acknowledged he’d reconciled with his wife and had grown close to his grandkids.

He admitted he hadn’t spent a lot of time with them prior to the accident but was so happy to be in their lives..

His mood and tone brightened as he shared how happy he is being back with his family, especially the grands.

He no longer holds on to anger and grudges and prefers to do more out of compassion, forgiveness, and generosity.

After what he survived, he says he doesn’t worry about small things.

He confidently stated, “They just don’t matter anymore to me.”

While I was frustrated with the nail in my tire. I felt blessed to sit and be inspired by this brother’s testimony.

Kenneth L. (Kenny) Hardin is a member of the National Association of Black Journalists.