That winter was unprecedented. The number of consecutive freezing days and snowfall set an Illinois record and resulted in 62 deaths and more than 2,000 injuries. I was kept very busy.

One morning the shop received so many calls about stranded motorists, abandoned vehicles and accidents, I decided to skip class and keep working. The local radio station and newspaper warned residents to stay inside unless it was an emergency. They said if you absolutely had to travel be certain to carry a first-aid kit, flashlight (extra batteries), blankets, waterproof matches, a sack of sand, a shovel, tool kit, tow rope, booster cables, compass… the list was as extreme as the weather. Since cellular phones weren’t around back then, you had to think before venturing out.

By the end of the day I was beat. I arrived home and started taking off my boots when the phone rang. It was the county police: “This situation has gone from bad to worse… get back out there and start towing in any and every vehicle in sight.” Apparently the number of stranded vehicles was making it impossible to plow—not to mention dangerous.

I grabbed a sandwich and went back to work… and continued working for nearly 40 consecutive hours. Before long I had pulled in enough vehicles to pay for an entire semester of school. Financially, the blizzard seemed like a blessing to me.

At some point, as my boss was writing reports on all the frozen vehicles that had filled the parking lot, it hit him… “How long has McMillan been working?”

“Wrecker Boy, Wrecker Boy, do you copy?”

That was my “handle.” The older shop guys gave it to me. They found it funny. I didn’t mind. Even if I had, it wouldn’t have mattered—the police called me “Wrecker Boy,” too.

“I read you… over,” I responded.

“What’s your twenty?”

The radio was breaking up. I tried adjusting the squelch control but to no avail. “I’m not certain… out in the country… some place west of town,” I replied. I had strategically pulled in the vehicles closest to the shop first, then slowly worked my way further and further into the country… off the beaten path.

“It’s time you bring that damn wrecker in and get some rest.”

He was more right than he knew. I was exhausted and in desperate need of rest.

“10-4… I’m picking up one more—then I’m heading back.”

“10-1… I can’t read yo…” were the last words I heard. I tried contacting him a few more times but concluded I was out of range. It was around noon when I lowered the tow sling down, slid under the stranded car, and hooked up the chains. I was mentally and physically fatigued. It took everything I had to move the frozen hoist lever. With the front wheels off the snow, I jumped back inside the cab, peeled off my gloves, switched on the flashing amber light, and started back toward the shop. I glanced in the side mirrors to check on my load. While it appeared stable, I knew I wasn’t. I was sleep-drunk, driving under the influence of exhaustion.

Thin white halos outlined the trees, power poles and lines… like a strange inverted Sabattier print. Everything was glowing unnaturally and I was squinting, hoping to make it stop. I tried calculating how much money I had earned but found I couldn’t add. I tried figuring out how much school I’d missed but didn’t know what day it was. My mind was crystallizing like the world around me. I kept drifting off the road—until the wheels rumbled and then I’d swerve back on—then off… back on… off… on … off… on… then FLASH… I was blind!

I screamed, grabbed my eyes and hit the breaks. With my forehead pressed against the steering wheel, I rubbed my eyelids until my sight started to slowly return. “What the hell just happened… was it aliens?” I asked myself.

Like Lot’s wife, I reluctantly glanced back and saw what appeared to be a laser gun peering above the snow’s surface. Or was it a spacecraft? Upon closer inspection, I discovered it was neither… at least by design. It was a submerged car reflecting the sun. I must have glanced over at the precise moment to catch a flash and to make things worse, my weary eyelids couldn’t respond in time to protect my pupils from frying.

I watched the snow blow over the small exposed patch of car roof—covering it and uncovering it—“dot-dot-dot-dot… dot-dash-dot-dot… like Morse code. I culled through my Cub Scout memories but couldn’t recall a single signal.

I wondered how and when the car ended up out in the field…. but stopped myself from wondering whether anybody was inside it. I know that sounds bad. But I was alone and lost, and while I didn’t know it then, I was experiencing severe sleep deprivation for the first time in my life. After several attempts to radio the office, I stopped and concluded I was still out of range.

Unaware of my location, I tried painting mental pictures of the area so I could report the buried car once I returned. But trying to paint mental pictures in my mental state proved to be impossible. I put the wrecker in gear and started down the road, hoping to figure out where I was.

Before long, the voices in my head returned, “Nobody’s trapped in that car… it would take days to bury a car like that… you’re just exhausted and not thinking right.” Collectively, the voices were convincing until one brave voice spoke up, “Maybe you’re all right… but what if someone is buried in that car?” That question stopped the wrecker and turned me around.

The car appeared to be even further from the road than I had remembered. I waited for the voices of reason to return and persuade me to head back to the shop, but they remained silent. So I bundled up and reentered the deep freeze. Trying to get the shovel down from behind the toolbox was not only a struggle; it was also a warning: “Don’t do it… you are in no condition to rescue anyone.”

Then I looked over the tundra at that buried car and put it out of my mind. I made my way across the field and didn’t look back at the wrecker. I didn’t want to know how far or little I had traveled; I just wanted to arrive. I leaned into the wind fighting for each step… slipping and falling along the way. When I arrived, I fell to my knees and leaned on the shovel to catch my breath. The cold air burned my lungs as I climbed up onto the entombed car and started pounding on the roof and yelling, “Is anyone in there? Can you hear me?” I thought I heard something, but between the howling wind and my mental state I couldn’t be sure.

Don’t worry, you’ll be okay, I’ll get you out!” I yelled as I shoveled enough snow away to see through the driver’s window. I dropped to my knees, leaned down, and peered inside. The front seat was empty, but I couldn’t see into the back. So I climbed toward the rear, cleared away more snow and glanced inside… it was empty, too. Thank God, I thought, as the shovel slid down from the roof onto the ground.

I rolled onto my back, spread out like a snow angel on top of the roof and closed my eyes. I could feel my heart pounding as I tried to catch my breath. In time I sat up and looked back toward the wrecker. Its amber beacon flashed like a distant light tower. And I was a wayward sailor… and no one but me knew I was lost at sea. Whatever energy I had before my journey was now gone.

I slid down the car and started staggering back when I heard a sound. It came from inside the car! Then I realized I hadn’t thought to check the floors… or under the seats. “Hello… hello… I hear you… are you okay?” I yelled frantically turning back to look inside—but it was still empty. The sounds were from inside my head… or at best, from the wind howling around me. I looked toward the flashing amber light again and started to cry. As I made my way toward the beacon, the tears froze to my eyelashes and cheeks.

I finally reached the wrecker and thanked God for having helped me to make it back. My body throbbed as I breathed in the warm air from the wrecker cab. I threw my gloves and cap on the passenger’s seat and watched the snow crystals turn back into water.

Then I glanced back across the field and realized I had forgotten the snow shovel. In a distraught state, I started crying again, then laughing… I had just risked my life to rescue someone who didn’t need rescuing… and wasn’t about to go through it all again for a snow shovel. I wiped my eyes, put the wrecker in gear and started back down the road—again.

Days later, I drove back to the scene. The car was gone. The wind and snow had already erased most of the evidence of it ever having been there. I purchased a new snow shovel for the wrecker and never told anyone this story until now.

Looking back on it, I might have done things differently—but probably not much. The colloquial phrase “Good Samaritan,” means someone who helps a stranger. It’s derived from a parable Jesus tells in response to the question of who one’s “neighbor” is… I believe that’s everyone… even those you don’t know but are willing to risk your life to save. The ethic of reciprocity (The Golden Rule) doesn’t discriminate.

Having spoken for 45 minutes, I was nearly finished when I said, “Before I close, does anyone have any comments or questions?” A woman toward the back of the auditorium stood and raised her hand. “Thank you for coming to Alaska and sharing your inspiring insights on creativity with us… I have thoroughly enjoyed your presentation. But I do have a question for you.” With everyone’s undivided attention, she continued, “What can we do right now to improve our creative ability?”

Before I share my response, there are a few things I need to tell you:

1) I had just arrived in Alaska that morning.  2) Chicago is 3 hours ahead of Alaska… and while the clock read 9:30 pm… to me it was 12:30 am.  3) This was not a religious event.  4) I am a truth seeker and don’t like being misled.  5) Sometimes when I’m tired, my brain filters stop working properly and I become brutally honest.

My response: “That’s an interesting question… and I would say to improve your creative ability, you should embrace the Golden Rule.”

This answer seemed to silence the crowd as they awaited my follow-up. I believe, like me, they were somewhat taken aback by my answer. I took a drink of water and continued:

“Yes, the Golden Rule… the ‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you’ Golden Rule. I realize this answer may sound strange at first… but let me explain. The Golden Rule, also known as the ‘ethic of reciprocity’ has been around for a long time. In fact, long before today’s religions adopted it, it was being practiced and discussed. Confucius believed no other guiding concept was more important for a society to follow. And I agree… Socrates and other great thinkers did as well. But you’re wondering what does all this have to do with your question—right? Everything. You see… practicing the Golden Rule requires us to put ourselves in another person’s position… to walk in their shoes, so to speak.

“This is no easy task. It takes focus and imagination. Getting outside of our own mental boxes and experiencing the world through others’ is an incredibly creative act. This practice expands our EQs (emotional quotients), too. It connects us and provides us with countless perspectives and new understandings of the world. In fact, I believe children who aren’t taught the Golden Rule and encouraged to practice it are at a major deficit. Those void in this area are often creatively bankrupt. Imagining how someone else feels… and treating them how you would like to be treated if you were in their position… is an excellent way to expand your creative capacity. And you can start right now… tonight.”

By the time I finished speaking, signing books and shaking hands, it was past 11:30 pm (Alaska time). I was exhausted but exhilarated. I can’t tell you the number of people who wanted to discuss the Golden Rule with me. My spontaneous answer seemed to have trumped my prepared keynote. Until that night, I had never really thought about the Golden Rule being a creative act. Maybe my impromptu answer was a result of being tired… but I really don’t think so. As that woman was asking her question, I used my imagination and put myself in her shoes. By the time I had transported myself back on stage, I knew the answer she needed… it was the one I would have wanted someone to share with me if I were in her position.

If everyone embraced the Golden Rule, or whatever one wants to call it, the world would be a better place… and yes, people would be more creative.