A recent heated altercation between tow truck workers in eMalahleni — which led to the arrest of three individuals — has once again placed the towing industry under the magnifying glass.

But here in Ermelo, we have three men who represent the complete opposite of that chaos.

If you’ve travelled the roads that web out from Ermelo in any direction, highways, byways, coal routes, pothole jungles, and gravel shortcuts, you’ve almost certainly seen them: JP Strydom, Johan Laubscher and Norman Booi, the unofficial towing trio, who arrives at accident scenes so reliably one could assume they were there when it happened.

Always the first to arrive

If there’s an accident, chances are all three are there, not by coincidence, but because this is what they do: show up, every single time.

They have the weirdest brotherly relationship: one moment they’re teasing and giving each other grief, the next they’re working with seamless focus, as if they’ve done this a thousand times (because they probably have).

Tow truck operators carry a reputation that precedes them, the old ‘steel vultures’ label.

Their waiting, however, isn’t greedy – it’s sacrificial.

While most of us spend evenings with family, relax on weekends, or switch off after a long day, these three are always awaiting the next call. Plans dissolve, suppers go cold, kids get kissed goodbye for the third time in one night because a WhatsApp message or phone call has come through.

Spend a weekend with them, as I did, and you quickly realise how relentless the rhythm is.

Friday night brought call after call, message after message about yet another accident, so much so that my wife is starting to suspect I might be having a secret affair, since I keep leaving the house late at night or in the wee hours of the morning.

Just when I think the night’s chaos has finally settled and that maybe now they’ll get to rest, the next alert comes through, and off we go again.

Saturday morning doesn’t mean downtime; it means round two.

Where humour holds everything together

Even in the thick of fatigue, they still find a way to laugh.

Their WhatsApp group is like a free comedy show – a steady stream of chirps, inside jokes, and the kind of camaraderie built only through years of working together. Oddly enough, it’s this humour that keeps them standing.

Johan Laubscher

When I first met Johan, he seemed like an emotionless guy who hardly spoke and rarely cracked a smile at any scene.

Having been to several accident scenes over the last few months, I’ve seen that my initial impression was merely an assumption, now that I’m part of the chirps, he is all but emotionless, and always has jokes to spare.

JP Strydom

JP is that big guy – small heart type of guy (don’t tell him I said so).

He’s a talker, and we usually get into chatting about the accident first, but this is usually swift before we get into how to take good photos, if his phone is better than mine.

Whether I’ll take his wedding photos is still up for debate.

Even though I usually shoot with my camera and he with his phone, he actually taught me how to take better night photos with my cell phone – imagine that, a towing guy teaching a photographer a trick or two.

Norman Booi

Norman has this cool, nonchalant swagger about him, and while he’s always in the thick of things, he and Johan often clash in a funny, brotherly way.

I’ve seen Norman countless times assisting wherever he can at accident scenes.

I often send him photos of his tow truck, and he always replies with a perfectly chosen GIF or emoji.

And without fail, he makes time for a quick fist pump when he spots me on scene.

The unseen role they play at accident scenes

Beyond the jokes and banter, these three are usually the first on the scene, ensuring that accidents are noticed and that people and vehicles remain safe until officials arrive.

They warn other motorists, help prevent secondary collisions, and stand guard while waiting for police, traffic officers, and ambulances.

Without them, critical minutes could be lost – they fill the vital gap until the officials take over.

Heart in the hardest moments

But to mistake the jokes for emotional detachment would be a terrible misunderstanding.

These men are not heartless at scenes, far from it. Just this past weekend, after a horrific crash that claimed two lives, they helped two small children, survivors of the accident, who were waiting in shock for medical assistance.

While paramedics worked frantically on the older child, the youngest, critically injured, was loaded into the ambulance first, all by herself.

Johan, a father himself, climbed in and gently took her tiny hand, staying with her so she wouldn’t have to face it alone.

When her sister was loaded moments later, he gently told them to hold each other’s hands.

Only once they were together did he step back, returning to the chaos outside without saying a word.

A few days later when we were chatting, he told me, “Hierdie goed eet ’n mens.”

It was an example of the quiet compassion that defines these men at every scene.

And so yes, they chirp, they tease, they grumble, they live on energy drinks and nicotine, and they are always, always waiting.

But when that call comes, they respond with more heart than they will ever admit.

They show up in ways we don’t always notice, at hours most of us will never keep, carrying burdens most of us will never witness.

Ermelo is fortunate to have JP, Johan and Norman, not because they tow cars, but because they show up for people.

Every time.