The Kindness of Strangers
On the way back to my apartment building on West 107th Street a couple of days ago, I lost my balance and fell down on the sidewalk. Because of my bad back and double knee replacement surgery, I couldn’t get up.
Outsiders think New Yorkers are rude and thoughtless, so wrapped up in their own affairs that they ignore people in trouble. Flapdoodle! The folks coming down the sidewalk couldn’t have been more concerned. One called for an ambulance, and when it didn’t arrive, another repeated the call. The superintendent of a building farther down the block tried to help me up; when he couldn’t, he stayed with me, along with a woman who had seen me fall from across the street. A young girl walking her pug stopped to express her concern (the little dog sniffed me and licked my face). Two children out for a walk with their father told me they hoped I would be all right; when I thanked them and said help was on the way, their father asked me if anything hurt. I said, “Only my pride. Serves me right- I forgot to bring my phone. But, hey, things could be worse! It could be raining, and lying here on my back with my mouth open, I could drown.” That got a laugh from the little crowd, so I said, “Thanks, folks. As you can see, I’m not a stand-up comedian. I do my act lying down.” A bigger laugh, and a teenaged girl offered me her scarf to put under my head as a sort of cushion. I thanked her and said I didn’t want her scarf to get dirty- my cap was cushion enough.
A siren sounded, and I could see an ambulance out on Broadway. One of my Good Samaritans waved at it, and the driver blinked his lights. But when he didn’t turn, the father of the two kids hollered at him. The building super told him it was OK- 107th was one-way in the wrong direction, and the driver had to go over to Amsterdam and then make his turn. Sure enough, the ambulance soon rolled up and two EMTs got out. They asked me if I had broken anything, and when I said I was fine, just unable to get up on my own, they efficiently lifted me to my feet. “Walk a little for me,” the female EMT said. “Yes ma’am!” I said, and began a marching cadence: “Hut, two, three, four!” I got halfway to the corner, halted, did a military about-face, and returned. Halting again, I cut her a snappy salute. Her male partner chuckled and said, “That’s great. But you’ve got a weird sense of humor.”
“I know,” I said. “It kicks in when people do nice things for me. I want to amuse them, as a way of saying thanks.”
“Are you sure you’re all right?” the female EMT asked. “Do you feel dizzy?”
“Only with relief,” I said. “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me,” she said. “It’s what we do.”
“And you do it very well indeed.”
“OK, sir. Glad you’re feeling better.”
“I am, thank you. All is well, and very well, and all manner of things are well.”
“Good. Take care of yourself.”
“I will, with a little help from my friends, and people like you.”
