Greetings from Russell's Remnant:

After Russell Whitesell had his "road to Damascus" experience where he was enlightened, he was now faced with several problems. One was that he had experienced an "all knowing period" but he had no authority in the eyes of humanity. To give credence to his knowledge, he knew he needed an exoteric license to be able to tell the world what he now knew. He was encouraged to become an exoteric Episcopal priest so he would be listened to by the public as "a man of the cloth."

He had few resources for his schooling. He had to find a night job so he could go to college and seminary. He found his night job in the form of a service station night attendant. The job allowed him to work but also he knew that he would be able to do some of his studies during the lull at work during the nights. The service station was basically a cash operation; however the service station owner told Russell that he did have a small number of credit customers who just signed the tickets and paid their bill at the end of each month. The owner told Russell about these few credit customers, but he somehow failed to point out some of these customers.

One evening, the wife and daughter of an Armenian orange grower came in for gas. They pulled up in a very large car. They stopped at a pump and waited. Russell came over and asked could he help them. They looked at him and ignored him. Again he asked could he be of assistance. They still ignored him. Using his intuition, he decided that they wanted a full tank of gas - probably ethyl because of size and nature of their car. He filled the tank, checked the oil and tires, and cleaned the windshield. He looked at the pump and told the lady the total cost of the gas. She ignored him again. He again told her the cost of her gas purchase. She looked at him with disdain and called him stupid. At that, Russ walked into the office hoping to find the owner who could tell him what to do. The owner was not on the premise. Russ decided that maybe this was one of the credit customers. He pulled out the little box with the credit pads for the few credit customers. Now he had to figure out which pad to use. What would be the name of this customer? He put his intuition to work and pulled out the pad belonging to the Armenian family. He wrote down the number of gallons, the total cost, and the type and license of the car.

He presented the ticket to the lady. She and her daughter again treated Russell with disdain. The mother called him stupid again. She signed the ticket, started the car, looked at Russell and told him that if he was going to service her car he would have to know "who she was." She then drove off in a huff, leaving Russell standing in a cloud of dust. Later that day Russell described the lady to the station owner. He told Russell that that indeed was the wife of the Armenian orange grower. From that day onward, the Armenian family treated Russell with rudeness and condescenion. Every time he waited on them, they treated him like he was their serf. He took the abuse and always treated them with respect.

Early one morning as Russell was leaving to go to his college classes, the Armenian family came rushing into the station. Their big truck would not start. They needed the owner to come to their orange grove and start the truck because a freeze was coming, and they needed the truck to put out the smudge pots so they could try and save their orange crop. The owner told them that he could not help them because he was the only one at the station, and Russell was just finishing his night shift and would be leaving. The family was desperate. They needed a mechanic. They did not know that Russell was one of the finest airplane mechanics around. They thought that he was just a gas pump jockey who could do nothing else.

As Russell was leaving, he heard the commotion. He knew they needed a mechanic to fix their truck. He told his boss, "I'll fix the truck for them." The family couldn't believe that this dumb gas pump attendant could fix their truck. They agreed to let him try. He went with them to the orange grove barn. He fixed their truck and helped them load the smudge pots onto the truck-bed. They then proceeded to put out their pots and saved their orange crop - with the help of that middle-aged, dumb gas station attendant. They took Russell back to the station and thanked him profusely.

From that day forward, the Armenian family was nice to Russell. They never called him names, and they never treated him badly. From that day forward they treated him with respect, but Russell still treated them the way he had always treated them - kindly.

Russell admonished our class to always be kind to the "Armenian families" in our lives.