Jane Herlong

A few weeks ago my mother and I were driving down River Road on Johns Island in the worse fog. Momma shared a story about my Cuz Herman (a woman ... who named this poor soul?) and Cuz Vardell who were traveling in terrible fog many years ago.

Eleanor said that Cuz Herman jumped out of the car, lifted her skirt revealing her white slip and walked in front of the car showing the way.

I laughed and said, "That's what you call an early GPS system."

Many of us are buying GPS machines these days. A speaker friend of mine encouraged me to rent one every time I rented a car. About a year ago, I took his advice.

What a life-saver!

I was driving at 4 a.m. in the rain on every major instate around the Washington, DC, area trying to find DWI Airport. I could have kissed that GPS.

Thomas decided to give my children and me a GPS for Christmas. I used it for the first time last week on a speaking engagement to Destin, FL. I asked the client how far my drive would be and he said to allow about an hour. It was only 41 miles, but there were lots of small towns and strict speed limits.

The night before, an immediate family member, who will remain nameless, programmed my GSP. I repeatedly asked this nameless person to stop programming the device.

No, they knew what they were doing.

Upon arrival in Florida, I cut on the small machine, programmed my destination and off I traveled. About an hour later, I realized something was wrong. My rental car did not have compass but the scenery was swampy, not the sugar-sand beaches that Destin is famous for.

I stopped at a gas station-ish place and this lady, or I should say woman, said. "You is goin the wrong way. Destine is back yonder behind you."

To make a long story less painful, it took me three hours to get to Destin which again, is only 41 miles from where I flew in. I could not figure out what was going on with this state of the art machine!

When I was leaving the Destine area, I once again, programmed my destination. And more strange directions appeared. I examined the screen closer and my final destination was 488 miles away! My well-meaning family member who will remain nameless, programmed the final destination as Johnston.

By the second hour of being lost, traveling through swamps with no map and no compass, I was wishing for dearly, departed Cuz Herman.

If only she would appear, lift her skirt revealing the gleaming, white slip and show me the way.

This is a GPS you can depend on!