It was late at night on February 18, 1952. A 14-wheel truck-trailer was rolling along a Texas highway. In the truck cab, the driver looked at his watch. "Almost there," Roy Gaby said to himself. It would be good to get home.
Suddenly a car pulled out in front of him. Roy turned the wheel sharply. His truck left the road. Then there was a loud crash!
Other drivers stopped to help. They found Roy's truck against a big tree. The heavy trailor was piled up on the truck. inside the cab, Roy was pinned under the steering wheel. He could not move.
The men tried to pry open the cab. But the doors were jammed tight. Another truck pulled and pulled at the heavy trailer. But it wouldn't move.
Then fire broke out. Flames began to lick up through the cab floor. All hope for Roy seemed gone. At that moment a quiet voice came out of the night. "Can I help?"
A big man, a Negro, walked to the cab. He put his hands on the door and pulle dit off!
The crowd watched as he tour out the burning floor mat. With his hands, he beat out the fire around Roy's legs.
The man reached into the cab again. He pulled the steering wheel from Roy's body. To free Roy's feet, he tore out the brake pedal.
Then he tried to get in beside Roy. But there seemed to be no room. Bent over, he fought his way into the cab.
Bracing his feet on the floor, slowly he started to raise his body. With his neck and shoulders against he cab roof, he pushed with all his might. He held the top up until the other men could pull Roy out.
Then, as quietly as he had come, the big man went back into the night. Who was he? No one had thought to thank him. No one had asked his name.
His name was Charles Dennis Jones. He was over six feet tall and weighed 220 pounds. In the hour of need, he had seemed as strong as ten men.
The next day, Jones didn't tell anyone what he had done. But his boss, Mr. Myers, guessed. The night before, he had sent Jones out on the highway to change a tire. And Myers knew at once why Jones was strong enough to lick that fire.
One December night, 14 months before, Jones had brought home a small Christmas tree for his little daughter, Evelyn. He also had a string of lights. She wanted real lights on the tree.
After his wife went to church, Jones put up the tree and turned on its lights. He left the lights on when he went to bed. Evelyn wanted her mother to see them.
A short time later, he awoke. Smoke was pouring into the bedroom! He got his five children out of the house. His wife came running home from church. Suddenly Evelyn cried, "My lights!" She ran back into the fire to get them.
Jones went after her. As he reached the house, the walls fell. he was thrown to the ground and knocked out.
d why he would
The next morning, for the first time in ten years, Jones was not at work. Everyone knew why. He had lost a child. And he had lost the home he had spent years paying for.
Friends and strangers tried to help the Jones family. They sent money, clothes, beds, tables, and chairs.
Before long, Jones, began work on a new house. But you can understand why he would always hate a fire.
The truck crash happened near Houston, Texas. the people of Houston wanted Jones' brave act to be remembered. So they gave money in his name to send a Negro student to college each year.
A few people went to Jones' home and told them about the money. Jones didn't say a word when he heard the news. But there were tears in his eyes.
One man asked Jones, "How were you able to do the wonderful thing you did? It seems impossible.
Jones looked at the people around him. Then he said simply:
"A man never knows what he can do till another man is hurting."
