Yes, the Fourth of July has long past and the joy of a brilliant firework show is a distant memory. Yet for me, this past July 4^th celebration will always hold an extra special place in my head and my heart.

While out on Big Bear Lake in the pitch black of the evening’s starlit sky, a particularly spectacular fireworks display ensued. Thirty minutes later, after much laughter, gasping of delight and hand clapping, the show came to an end. We started our boat, turned it around and began cruising back to dock. All of a sudden, the prop jammed, and the boat stopped. Something was terribly wrong. Seaweed or something had become lodged in our propeller. And so there we floated in middle of the lake in the dead of night.

A patrol boat passed with its lights flashing, and we all called out to it, “HELP!!” but he continued on his way. Another boat passed on its way to its dock and we called out again. This time, the skipper yelled to us, “Need help?…Throw me your dock line and I’ll tow you in.”

He gave us the perfect tow as he masterfully navigated the drout-laden shallow waters in the darkness and literally sling-shotted our boat perfectly into our slip. It was a moment of relief and gratitude. We thanked him and his crew and said we could take it from there. Yet he refused to leave until we were safely tied off.

The next day, I began calling the Marina. When I sat on the back of the boat with my feet dangling underneath, my toes could feel what seemed to be a piece of clothing wrapped around the propeller. My son tried to dive under the boat in the dark, murky water with goggles and a belly full of air.

He just couldn’t see it or stay under long enough to untangle it. When he got up really close, though, he could see exactly what it was: a full-sized, beautiful, nylon red, white, and blue American flag!

When I called for help, the employees at the Marina were slammed with the holiday traffic. Their divers, they said, were in Kuwait, and the owner, who also dives, was not around. I left them my cell phone number and begged them to refer resources to me, just in case they showed up, and they, in turn, wished me luck. It was Saturday morning of our cherished holiday weekend, and it seemed our time on the lake had come to an abrupt end.

Then my cell phone rang. “Hi, this is Lauren,” said the young caller. I work here at the Marina. We’re really, really busy, but I saw your note that you needed help. I feel so bad that your holiday weekend would be ruined. I’m coming to help you!”

Tears came to my eyes as I exclaimed, “Really?!! Are you sure? You’re an angel! How will you get to me?”

“I’ll ask another employee to bring me to you in a skiff. You stand out at your dock waving a red flag and I will find you.”

Fifteen minutes later, like a princess in shining armor, Lauren, a double biology/Spanish major at UCSD, and her captain tied off their skiff and came aboard. She couldn’t have weighed more than 100 lbs and was donning a bright smile, a sharp kitchen knife, and a pair of goggles. She peeled off her shirt and her shorts and dove under the boat in her bikini; wielding the long, sharp kitchen knife.

After three tries, 19-year-old Lauren emerged with the beautiful tattered and torn American flag. She had saved the day, saved the weekend, and wanted nothing in return. She protested when I offered her and her teenage captain some money…but she eventually took it, telling the captain to take most of it for himself.

I hugged her, thanked her with all my heart, and waved good-bye as the skiff puttered back out onto the lake to return to a buzzing Marina that desperately needed her help. She had just completed an amazing act of kindness against many odds, and I knew something very special had just happened.

I thought about how I would try and pay it forward; how this kindness—together with the gratitude for last evening’s tow—had restored my faith in people helping others for no reward except the pleasure of having done it at all.

I vowed to rekindle that light in myself, despite the onslaught of responsibilities and the sheer lack of time. I had a moment of pride in knowing that our team at DDCC understood well this act of going above and beyond to make a difference to our clients.

It’s one thing to follow through on a request; it’s quite another to initiate extra work and added time for ourselves just because it’s the right thing to do for a project when the budget is already set. It’s a trait about our company that makes me—and our whole team—proud. And for our clients, we stand ready and willing to pay it forward.