I was really p/o’d. It was a Sunday morning, it was raining and I was stuck out in an OP on the edge of the reservation. I had been there long enough to get thoroughly soaked through and I was starting to get chilled.

It was about 0730 when an older Cadillac sedan pulled off the highway below me. The right rear tire was flat. The driver and passenger got out to look at the tire. They were two frail elderly black women, dressed for church. They looked at each other, helplessly, then got back into their car and sat there. It was very obvious that they were not able to change the tire.

I had just about made up my mind to go down and help them when a ratty old Chevy pickup, more rust and primer than paint, pulled up behind them.

I got a bad feeling when I saw the Confederate flag in the back window.

Two very obvious rednecks climbed out of the truck. I was really concerned when I saw that they were wearing jackets with the KKK blood drop cross on them.

One of the men stayed by the pickup while the other walked up to the driver’s window of the Cadillac. I could not hear what he said to the women in the car.

I was quite surprised when the driver released the trunk latch of the car. The man who had spoken to her walked back to the trunk and pulled out the jack and spare tire. The second man came forward and jacked up the car while the first man loosened the lug nuts.

In just a few minutes, they had changed the tire and put the jack and the flat tire back into the trunk. They closed the trunk and the women started the car and drove away. The two men climbed back into their truck and also drove away.

You can’t really judge a book by its cover or a redneck by his Confederate flag.