I don't even know if “review” is the right word, because I wasn't a customer yesterday. I wasn't buying a car. I was simply a woman with her grandson in the car, stranded in the middle of a busy West Maple intersection during rush hour, panicked and having no idea what to do.
Around 5:45 p.m., my Cadillac Escalade started losing power as I crossed Maple. I pressed the gas and nothing happened. It slowly rolled until I was sitting in the intersection, traffic around me, nowhere to pull over, and my grandson in the car.
I called my husband, and before I could process what was happening, a man appeared at my window.
“Put it in neutral. I'm going to push you.”
That man was Spike, aka James Rodis.
He was the first person who stopped. Without hesitation, he was going to push my Escalade out of West Maple during rush hour. Another gentleman saw him and came to help. Together, they pushed my Escalade through the intersection and into a safe place.
That alone would have been enough.
But Spike didn't leave.
He came back to make sure I was okay and asked if someone was coming. When he heard my husband wasn't close, he started trying to figure out what was wrong. I told him I had about 30 miles of gas showing, and he thought I might be out of gas. When I said my husband was coming, Spike basically said, “It's only going to take me 10 minutes. I can take care of you.”
And he did.
Spike was already headed somewhere, but instead he bought a gas can and gas, came back, put it in my Escalade, and stayed to make sure it started.
Twice I tried to pay him. He had spent his own money and interrupted his evening for a complete stranger.
He wouldn't take a dime.
I learned he worked with Woodhouse. Since he refused repayment, the least I could do was make sure Woodhouse knew who was representing their name.
So, Spike, here's your review.
He told me this is the example he tries to set for the people he works with. He has a wife and daughter, and when he saw me sitting there, he knew he needed to stop. He didn't know me. He just saw someone who needed help and decided wherever he was headed could wait.
In a time when it's incredibly easy to drive past someone else's problem because it isn't ours, Spike noticed.
More importantly, he stopped.
There was no audience. No transaction. No sales opportunity. No camera. No reason to believe anyone would ever know.
That's character.
You can teach customer service. You can train sales techniques. You can write company values on a wall. But you cannot manufacture what I saw yesterday. Spike wasn't representing Woodhouse because someone was watching. He represented Woodhouse when he thought nobody was.
I don't know what title Spike holds, but I hope Woodhouse understands exactly who they have representing their name, and his coworkers understand the example standing in front of them.
Spike, I genuinely believe God put you on West Maple at exactly the right moment yesterday. You saw a grandmother stranded in an intersection with her grandson, and before I could figure out what to do, you were already there.
You didn't just help with my car.
You made us safe.
And I will never forget that.
One more thing, because you wouldn't let me repay you:
Please look me up, Daniela Holloway, on Facebook or LinkedIn. My husband and I own The Holloway Experience in Omaha. If you, your wife, kids, grandkids, family, whoever your people are, enjoy games, arcades, pool, or just being together, I would love to have all of you as my guests for a game day or game night.
No charge. No strings attached.
You wouldn't let me take care of you yesterday, so please let me take care of your family for an evening.
Thank you, Spike. For the gas. The gas can. Being late to wherever you were going. Refusing my money. Living the example you talked about when there was absolutely nothing in it for you.
But most of all, thank you for seeing me.
The world needs more people who notice.
And it definitely needs more people who stop.
