By Jodi Rae Ingstad 

I was in grade school when the movie, “Jaws,” hit the big screen.  It was about a great white shark that tormented swimmers.  I vividly remember the announcer declaring, “Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water…”  
    I’m North Dakotan, grown and fed. Grandpa Walter Kranz taught me bullheads and perch can’t grow large enough to take a bite out of my abdomen.  I didn’t fear the movie at all.
    I would expect to find a shark in the ocean of California. What I hadn’t expected happened this weekend while we were driving home from California.  A shark of sorts was tormenting us. Not in the ocean though.  It happened in South Dakota.
    Our driving trip home was going flawlessly.  We stopped here and there to sight see and just to fill our hurting hearts with moments of vacation joy. While he was driving I was reading "Walden" by Thoreau and while I was driving he was reading quotes from Buddha. We were all about peace and practicing it.
    We finally found ourselves at the South Dakota border eager to get home. I was on Highway 83, headed north. We were the only car for miles until I looked in my rear view mirror and saw a small car not just tailgating us but literally right up on our bumper. I could see the man's face in the mirror. He spookily came out of nowhere.
    I swerved to the right expecting him to just pass.  Instead he swerved with me! My adrenaline kicked in as did my instinct to flee. I came out of the swerve and kicked our vehicle into a speed that would have gotten me handcuffed. The man in the little car behind me did the same. He had no license plates.  Husband told me to pull completely over.  I did hoping the man would just pass us. This time we came to a complete stop and the man pulled right up next to Husband’s door.  Danger was near.  My spirit told me so.
    I tore off like a bat out of purgatory. The mad man did too. We were being chased!
    I was driving at a ridiculous speed trying to lose him.  It wasn't working. I skidded into an abandoned farm and there stood a muscular man without his shirt on. He was looking through binoculars on a tripod.  I was mouthing, "Help! Help!" as I applied the brakes of the vehicle. I jumped out and screamed, "Help us!  Please, help us...this man is chasing us at high speeds!  He may have a weapon!”
    The man got out of his car.  He was tall, well over 300 pounds and visibly drunk or high. The shirtless man and that husband of mine tried to subdue him. They yelled at me to get back into the car.  I dialed #911.
    Out of nowhere came six other savage, tan, muscular shirtless men. All of them had guns. The man got into his car and fled again.
    Think of all the coincidences it took for me to turn into and abandoned farm with boards on the windows and void of paint only to find seven prairie dog hunters with many guns visiting on this very weekend from Minnesota.
    We laughed and as we did we saw the highway patrol driving even faster than I had been chasing the man who had been chasing us. Karma!
    We're back on our prairie now.  Not exactly at peace yet but we're working on it. Even without peace, we're back to our own Utopia. Thoreau would approve. Forget Buddha. Jesus showed us that He’s always with us keeping us safe. He provided seven shirtless, tan men with muscles and guns” to protect us on a road least traveled.
    Enlightenment is truly everywhere if you just trust your God enough to turn into places thought abandoned, rather, blessed. It’s good to be home.