Dumpster Cats

I Googled my name (and my family members names) today. I was bored and checking on my teenagers antics. I found this:

To: fhp@hsmv.state.fl.us
Received: Via E-Mail
My name is Heather Porterfield and I had occasion to travel thru the town of Yulee on I-95. I stopped at a convenience store/souvenier stand (Wayfara) with my two children and my mother on our way back to West Virginia. I locked my keys in my car and had to walk across the street to an Exxon station to call a locksmith. No one was answering and I was becoming afraid. I thought if perhaps I called the police, I could get a suggestion about what to do next. This was on June 16, 2003 at about 7:30 or 8pm. I called information and obtained the number for Highway Patrol. The man that answered my call was very helpful. Although no actual police could assist me, he called each of the 3 local locksmiths and I was on my way by 8:30pm. His assistance was invaluable as I was unsure of how to proceed at that time. We were hundreds of miles from home, but I want to thank that man for his kindness. I did not catch his name, but please pass along my sincere gratitude.
Heather PorterfieldPinch WV




This happened while my mother, two kids, age 3 and 12, were stopped at a tourist trap that had no actual payphone of its own. The payphone I made the call from was across a four lane highway and about waist high. Did I mention it was next to the Exxon dumpster that was filled and crawling with what I can only define as "dumpster cats". At one point, I called my husband collect AT WORK to cry. I felt that letting that police officer know just how grateful I was needed to be a priority.

Now feel free to mock me.

Heather P