Holy Shit: Lesssons Learned from a Libertyville Latrine

12 midnight, Sunday, October 4th: I am taking a hot eucalyptus bath to wash off the shit smell. What a day!

Earlier that day...

1.00pm, Sunday, October 4th: After being invited to an evening potluck, I throw some sausage, beans, corn and tomatoes into a crock pot so that a good soup will be ready when I get back from my planned hiking trip. I put Baz, my dog, into the car and hit the highway.

1.30pm: I stop at the I-94 Lake Forest Oasis for a bite to eat, on the way to find a nice spot to hike, I am not sure where exactly I am going so I stop at the travel kiosk and pick up a brochure for a place called Independence Grove in Libertyville, Illinois. It's only about 10 more mile up the road so I head that way.

2.00pm: At the main entrance to Independence Grove, the attendant tells me pets are not allowed in the main park but they have a 23 acre dog park on the other side of the grove and she kindly provides directions.

2.15pm: I park in the lot for the Dog Recreation Area and pay twice the daily fee, not having anything but twenty dollar bills and the fee is only $10. I gladly put the $20 in the envelope and into the slot, trusting that the extra money is going to a good cause. Walking through the front gate, I am immediately impressed at the spaciousness of the park - it is a much nicer place than the place we normally take Baz near our house. I let Baz off his leash and as usual, he runs directly to the water and jumps in. After a few minutes in the lake, I call Baz and put him back on his leash to explore more of the park. We walk down a heavily forested trail that circles the small lake and there are plenty of other dogs there. When we reach a clear meadow, I let Baz free again, and he joyfully chases several other dogs, following them back...to the lake.

2.30pm: Knowing Baz, I start walking further down the trail, knowing he will soon notice my absence and begin to follow, as he does. I am thoroughly enjoying the walk, being completely under the trees but still seeing the blue sky and white clouds peak through. Baz runs ahead for a while, playing tag with other dogs, then runs back to me at full speed in a flash, just to make sure I am still around and goes tearing off in the other direction...he loves his free time off the leash!

3.00pm: Baz has plunged himself into the lake already at least 5 times as we walk the perimeter of the lake and before I know it, we are back at the front gate. "Let's go around again," I tell Baz and he gladly follows. A friendly dog owner has thrown a tennis ball too far out into the lake for her little chihuahua to reach it and Baz excitedly paddles out to get it and back again with then ball in his mouth. The young lady expresses thanks after I finally get Baz to drop the ball.

3.15pm: We find a small trail leading off the main trail and are soon walking along the side of a river. We walk completely alone for a while, the solitude and quiet soothing me, despite the fact that the trail is growing increasingly muddy. I hear voices ahead and we catch up to a man and woman with a small labrador puppy named Sam, who looks just like Baz as a puppy. Baz and Sam play with each other, jumping in and out of the river, both of them running up to the man and the woman and myself, putting their muddy paws all over my pants. I don't mind a bit. Baz jumps into the river by himself and swims the entire width of the river to the other side, making me nervous for a moment. Right when I think he is going to emerge on the other side where I won't be able to get him without swimming the river myself, he turns around in the water and heads back towards me. I comment to the couple that he looks like a little otter and as he swims, Baz opens his mouth several times, thinking that the stray leaves floating towards his mouth are food. Adorable!

3.30pm: I realize I have to use the bathroom so we head back to the front gate of the park. I put Baz in the back of the car and walk over to the public bathroom, putting my car and house keys into the pocket of my sweatshirt. As I finish my business, I hear a slight tinkling sound of keys and see, now, in front of me, seeming to be slow motion, the keys falling from my pocket down into the toilet. I stand there in disbelief. It is a true latrine, nothing but a toilet mounted ontop of the floor, a hole at the bottom of the toilet in the floor, about 3 feet of space between the hole in the floor and the waste in the dark recesses below. Tears well up in my eyes for a moment. How fucking stupid! Then I see the glimmer of the keys as they are floating on the top layer of the muck. I get onto my knees and stretch my arm down into the toilet, but the basin of the toilet blocks me from being able to extend my arm down...my fingers are at least two feet away from the keys. Noooooo! I walk outside the latrine, looking around at the calm and peaceful people walking around with their dogs on such a gorgeous day. No one even notices me...thank goodness. I walk to a tree and break off a limb with several bends and curves at the end. Back in front of the toilet, I feel flashes of hope and despair as I think I have the keys on the branch but then, no, the keys disappear, completely out of site, sinking down into the muck. FUCK!!!!

3.45pm: I walk back to the parking lot, seeing that the car has steamed up with Baz inside it and I start to panick, oh my goodness, the windows are all rolled up. I go around to each of the 4 doors and they are all locked. I see my cell phone laying in the car in the cup holder. What else can go wrong? I see a couple and their young baby, people I had seen walking on the trail earlier and tell them my situation, sounding very stressed. The gentleman allows me to use his cell phone. The only thing I can think of is to call AAA to have the car towed all the way back the 40+ miles home. I get on the phone with AAA, they look up my membership using my name and address. I tell them the full situation and that my dog is locked in the car and I need someone out to help me immediately. The AAA rep says that he will have someone call me back, can he get a number that I can be reached on? I tell him that I am on someone else's cell phone and I agree to wait. For at least ten minutes, the gentleman, his lovely wife, and their little baby girl, who cries occassionally as the poor kid was tired and wanted to get home, all wait patiently as I use their phone, and they sit in their car waiting to leave. As I am pacing, listening to the annoying hold music, I pace back over to the car to check on Baz and consider that if a tow truck isn't here soon, (as I have had to wait 2 or more hours before with AAA service), I am going to break the window to get Baz out. With the cell phone in my hand, I once more walk around my car, checking each door again and come to the back hatchback door in the rear. It opens!

3.59pm: The AAA rep comes back on the phone and tells me that he has dispatched a local locksmith and the estimated time is...two hours. I hand the cell phone back to the gentleman and try to give him a twenty dollar bill but he refuses and is so kind and polite that I want to hug him. He and his family drive off and I wave goodbye to them. After taking Baz for a short walk, I crawl through the back of the car and unlock the other doors and sit down in the drivers seat. I pick up my cell phone and notice that the GPS navigation system has been on the entire time that I was out hiking and that there is 10% of the battery left. No, no, no!!!

4.15pm: The locksmith company calls and asks exactly where I am. I give them the best directions that I can, not knowing the area. My cell phone is beeping at me while I talk to the man, indicating a low battery. I hang up with the locksmith, who ends the call saying they are in Zion and it will still be at least an hour before they can get to me, to make me a key to start the car, which would enable me to drive home. I look at the cell phone battery status and decide to brave a call to my boyfriend, Dan, who is in California on a business trip. I blurt out the situation, feeling embarrassed and stressed, not to mention rushed to talk to him before my time runs out. I have a nervous cry with him for a few moments and he gives me some encouraging words as he always does in his sweet manner, and I notice that the cell phone cigarette lighter charger is lying on the floor of the car. YES!

4.25pm: Already knowing that my cig lighter charger does not work unless the key is turned in the ignition, I try anyway. Nothing. I check on Baz in the back of the car and then see a lady and an even older lady getting into their SUV with their dog. I tell them the situation and ask them if they can let me charge my phone for a few minutes. They do. For about ten long, kind, unselfish minutes. They give me a bag of treats for Baz. Again, I want to hug and show my love. They drive off and I return to my car. At least I have the comfort of being able to sit in the seat.

4.35pm: Back in my car, Dan and I exchange text messages about whether anyone we know has spare house keys, so that if and when I finally get home that evening, I will be able to get into the house. The only person who might is the contractor who recently renovated our kitchen. But I am already resolved to break into my own house if necessary. Dan asks if I want his father to drive all the way out there and pick me up. I say no. The cell phone starts beeping again...low battery power. I close it and decide the only thing I can do now is choose to relax.

5.30pm: After sitting in the car for some time looking at the incredibly beautiful blue sky with sincere appreciation, I allow myself to think, what can I learn from this situation and of course, it comes to me quite quickly. I have already been shown kindness by several people. I didn't realize how much more kindness was on the way. I send Jerry, the kitchen contractor, a text message to ask him if he had a key to our house. He calls me back (no, no, no, my battery is dying again) and tells me that he thinks the key is in his truck, but his cousin has borrowed his truck and won't be back until tomorrow. I tell Jerry thanks for checking and end the call quickly, again, resolved that if necessary, I will get into the house somehow. I send a short text message to the friend who invited me to the potluck saying I won't make it. The kind message I receive back is so appreciated.

5.45pm: I let Baz out of the car and we walk around the lake for a few minutes, both of us grateful to stretch and relieve ourselves. I notice a young couple leaving the park, getting ready to get into their car. I tell them my situation and they are both immediately sympathetic but also they laugh and allow me to see the humor in it. The guy's name is Kurt and his girlfriend, Jessica. We chat casually as we wait for my cell phone to charge. I apologize several times for taking so long, but also have the aim of getting more of a charge onto my phone this time. Baz and their dog greet each other, but their dog, a mastiff, charges at Baz and they get into a little scrap. No one is hurt. Jessica suggests, why don't I take Huxley for a walk around the lake, and Kurt, you take Baz and Richard down the highway to get them something to eat. I am stunned at the offer and almost decline, but I don't. Kurt drives with me in the passenger seat, Baz in the back of their car, and we go through the McDonald's drive-thru. When we get back my phone has 3/4 of a charge, and my tummy is full. Right as I am getting out of their car and thanking them both profusely, my phone rings. The locksmith. It is going to be another 90 minutes before they get there. That means 7.30pm. Kurt and Jessica express their empathy and ask if there is anything else they can do. I tell them that they have been so kind already and it is not a problem for me to wait here in the car for the locksmith.

7.00pm: The sun is setting and it is getting colder. Every time I get out of the car to give Baz some exercise, I am eager to get back into the car to warm up. I allow myself to empathesize with the stories of people who have been stranded in the wilderness for days, as I am getting a bit stir crazy. I find a booklight that I took on a recent camping trip in the back of my car and some Spanish lessons in my dashboard that I threw in there one time, and never put them in the house. I start reading the Spanish sentences and the English translations when I see headlights entering the now empty parking lot. I jump out of my car, thinking it is the locksmith...it is a park ranger. He asks me what I am doing out here and I explain and at first, he seems rough and hard and irritated, but about five minutes later, he seems more casual and asks if he can get me anything and I say no, explaining the kind people who have already helped. He says that I have to be out of the park by 10pm so the locksmith needs to hurry up. I say, believe me, I agree. He drives away.

7.30pm: No locksmith. I call AAA and ask for a status. They keep me on line for a long time, apologizing, saying that this incident will not count towards the 4 occurrences allotted per year with my membership.

8.30pm: No locksmith. I am lonely, cold and irritated. It is pitch dark. I am in an empty parking lot off a highway, no one around. A few text messages to my boyfriend, my potluck friend, and a couple others keep me going. I decide to call the locksmith directly as I have the number from when he called me earlier. As I am on the phone with him, the ranger pulls back into the parking lot. The ranger asks me how it is going and I tell him I am on the phone with the locksmith now. The locksmith, who sounds drunk, says he is on the way from Zion, and I say, you told me that hours ago, and he says that AAA made him stop at other calls on the way. I say, can you give me a firm ETA as to when you will be here, as I have been waiting 4 hours now. The man says it will just be another twenty minutes. I don't believe him.

8.45pm: No locksmith. The ranger has stayed in the parking lot with me and has been chatting with me. He asks casually if I paid for the daily fee for the park earlier, and I think he is checking on me to make sure I did it. I say yes, I paid, I even put in a $20 because I did not have the correct amount. He sorts through all the envelopes he has retrieved from the dropbox, takes mine out, gives me the twenty back and says, you've had enough of a rough day. Tear up the window tag and don't tell anyone I did that.

9.00pm: No locksmith. The ranger says, do you mind if I call the locksmith. I say, not at all, I would welcome it. The ranger calls and is very firm and forceful, hangs up. The ranger says, yeah, he sounds drunk. AAA calls on my phone right after and says, the locksmith says he is two blocks away now. The ranger drives out to the entrance of the parking lot and turns on his flashing lights so the locksmith can see where we are.

9.10pm: The locksmith finally arrives after two more calls from the ranger who is now just as irritated at AAA and the locksmith as I am. The locksmith, who obviously has had a bit to drink, is so pleasant that I have no choice but to converse with him kindly. He has his teenage son, Jeremy, helping him out. Jeremy keeps me in conversation, which is good, as it distracts me from his father tearing my car apart, to find a secret code that will allow him to make the car that will start my electronic ignition. It is apparently not as simple as just duplicating the key.

9.30pm: Jeremy asks, if you lost your keys, how are you going to even get into your house when you get home. I said, I will have to break in. He says, if we had a strong magnet, you could get them out of there, it would be just like they float up magically, if we had a magnet strong enough, like a super magnet. I politely give a fake laugh and say, yeah, wouldn't that be nice. His father says, we have a retractable magnetized pole but it is only 3 feet long. I say, oh, that's not long enough. The ranger says, lets tape it to a branch or something. The locksmith gets into the back of is truck and within a few minutes, with another metal pole and the magnetized pole duck taped together, hands me a 6 foot long tool.

9.45pm: The ranger says, I will hold my flashlight for you, but I am not getting no where near that toilet. I can't believe he is even coming with me, in the dark, to stand beside me with the flashlight. We enter the latrine and I put the pole down into the pit, swirling it slowly around in the muck, pulling it up every few minutes to see if anything is on it. I don't have much belief that it will. Then, I feel something heavy on the pole. I lift it up. It is a dog poop bag that reeks like nothing I have smelt before. The ranger and I both walk out of the latrine to get fresh air to keep ourselves from retching. We laugh about it as if we have been buddies for years and he slaps me on the shoulder and says, ok, let's go back in.

9.55pm: I swirl the pole around the muck a few times more. Again, something heavy. I lift the pole up and something glimmers. Metal? I become more careful now, as if it is the keys, I don't want them to fall off. The end of the pole ascends slowly through the dark pit, the ranger asks, you got something?, I am quiet, methodical, I pull the pole out and into the beam of the flashlight. It is my keys. My car key. My house keys. My KEYS! I can't believe it. I say it aloud: I can't fucking believe it! The ranger laughs and says, alright! He walks me down to the lake where, the keys still hanging onto the the magnet at the end of the pole, he suggests rinsing them off in the lake. We walk back to his patrol car and he gives me some hand sanitizer and we put the keys on the ground and squirt sanitizer all over them.

10.05pm: When I get back to the parking lot, the locksmith has my new car key ready, although I don't need it now, but without he and his son's help, I wouldn't have my house keys either so I gladly pay them the $120 service fee. I get the name and business card of the ranger, thanking him sincerely for his help as he stayed with me for more than an hour, helping me out. I extend my hand to thank him, he laughs and says, I am not shaking that shitty hand, but have a safe trip home. He says, I was glad to help.

11.00pm: I walk into my house, using my house keys to unlock the front door. The Jewel frequent shopper keychain tag still smells awful. I don't care. I open the door to the smell of the sausage corn chowder in the crockpot. I really had hoped to make it the potluck but on my drive home, I again asked myself, is there anything to learn from this experience? And as before, but even more evidence of it because of the multiple occurrences of unselfish kindness, the answer is obvious. Over a bowl of warm, steaming, delicious chowder, I know that I have been taught a valuable lesson about how important small acts of kindness between people are.

12 midnight: Soaking in the tub. I ask myself, in the future, no matter how shitty my day might be, how kind will I be to someone who might need just the smallest gesture? Thank you to the couple and their baby girl for letting me charge my phone. Thank you to the lady who gave Baz an entire bag of treats and let me charge my phone. Thank you to Kurt and Jessica who took me to get some food and let me charge my phone. Thank you for the text messages from Dan and others that alleviated the stress of the sitation. Thank you to the Park Ranger (name omitted as he risked his job when he tore up my permit and refund my fees) for his comradery, conversation and humor. Thank you to the locksmith and his son, Jeremy, for allowing me to lighten up when I really wanted to be angry and irritated. And thank you, Spirit, for whatever reason, allowing me to be open to all of this in a way I have never felt before in my life.

by Richard K Allison