2697 McConnells Mill Rd
"I have always depended
on the kindness of strangers."
Do you want to hear a story that will reaffirm your faith in people?
A story about random acts of kindness and the goodness of strangers?
This is that story.
It was a beautiful fall day. The kind of day where the sun is bright. The air is crisp. The last of the fall leaves are clinging to the trees.
We hiked along the river, past the moss-covered rocks, along the rooted trails covered in leaves that crunched beneath our footsteps. It was beautiful. We were happy, relaxed, carefree.
We passed the time and miles talking, laughing, making plans. It was one of those perfect days right up until it wasn't.
Jeff turned around, reach into his pocket and said, "I don't have the key." He checked all his pockets again. I checked them, too. The car key was gone. It had been in the same pocket as the bag of sunflowers he'd been reach in and out of.
We were two and a half hours from our car, and another two hours from home. To make things more interesting, we didn't have cell reception.
Jeff, usually the calm and happy part of our duo, was freaking out and super upset with himself. I was calm and had a feeling we'd find the key on our way back. Just in case, we decided to call Jeff's brother when we got reception, and ask him to to go to our house, get the spare key, and make the 2-hour drive to McConnells Mill.
We walked with our eyes on the ground. We were quiet. Jeff was mad. I told him not to sweat it. It's not like we'd be stuck at McConnells Mill forever.
When we were about a mile from the car, Jeff called his brother. His brother said he'd go to our house.
The sun was beginning to set as we neared the parking lot. Still no key. I had been so sure we'd find it on the trail.
As we approached our car, we noticed a folded piece of paper wedged into the door. We opened it up and this is what we saw:
Bob. The man. The legend. The trail angel of all trail angels.
The key was in the ignition. The money, and everything else that was in our car from a weekend getaway in Pittsuburgh, was in the car.
We tried to find Bob through a post on the park's website. We never found him, but we will definitely, if given the chance, pay his kindness forward.
As much as one might think this is a once-in-a-lifetime event, we've already had one more note since then. When Amy was walking at Chagrin River Park, she found this note on her car:
Other things people have returned to us: Amy's purse that she left in restaurants in both Florida and Michigan and Amy's license which is lost on two different walks. We. Have. Issues.
If you find anything on a trail, chances are we dropped it.
Jeff's Beer Pick: Thunderhop by Church Brew Works