A good mechanic is hard to find.

For years, we've taken our broken-down vehicles to a trusted mechanic in town. Once, after a hose of some importance let loose a spectacular plume of steam and smoke, I pulled over our aging van to give him a call. I described what had happened and asked if I could still drive the five miles to his shop if I stopped now and then to add some water to the radiator. "You will turn a small problem into a very big problem if you do," he warned. "Words to live by," I thought, as the kids and I waited for the tow truck.

In the grubby powder blue lobby of his shop, he stubbed out his cigarettes so I wouldn't breathe the smoke and listened carefully when I imitated the alarming sounds initiated only by a right hand turn at certain speeds. He told the truth when there was nothing to fix. He laughed his head off when, in my desperation to pick up a repaired vehicle, I propelled my son's razor scooter a mile and a half to get there in my work clothes, arriving sweaty and flustered and ridiculous victorious. For years we heeded his advice, nursing a few more miles and a few more years out of the very small fleet of vehicles we've owned over the last decade.

Without explanation or notice, the shop is closed, the parking lot emptied of sagging vehicles, the mechanic gone. I wish we had thanked him more.

Anyone know a good mechanic?