This is one of the coolest things I have ever read here on the SDMB…
Originally posted by China Guy: "The kindness these people showed me is something I will never forget. "
In the early 70’s I hitchhiked around the Japanese island of Shikoku. People would not just pick me up and give me a ride. They would pick me up and when they got near their own destination would find someplace like a restaurant and read all the license plates in the parking lot of the people of who were in the restaurant. (A Japanese license plate shows where it was registered, (or at least it did then)) Then they would take me into the restaurant and ask, “who’s going toward “X” ?” and then turn me over to these people who were going in my direction.
I still pass it forward.
When I was about 13 or 14, I was riding my bike along a medium rise construction site heading home. A peice of scrap metal tangled around my rear wheel and it was a mess.
I sat on the rough ground, in the July heat for quite some time trying to unknot the metal mess, cutting my fingers a bit and realizing that I was going to have to somehow put my Sears Free Spirit mine was brown with sweet orange detail and God, I could ride no handed on the bike like the wind. huff it home with the back wheel over my shoulder.
At least 2.5 miles. I wouldn’t make it home before I turned 100. this was before cell phones and I never had any money for a phone call. Who had a quarter on them for a phone call? I was saving my money like a hoarder back home in my piggy bank for Great Things. I just didn’t have a plan.
The sun was suddenly eclipsed by a giant of a man ( at least in my sitting position) who came over from his job site job thing and said, " Maybe I can help."
With some tin snips he made short work of the metal tangle and soon my wheel was spinning free. I muttered my teenage angsty thanks and off I was, back on track to riding no handed down a main road with reckless abandon.
This thread is my favorite. I love people.
About a year and a half ago, I had an experience in which I was both the stranger helping and the stranger being helped.
At the time, I was a parade performer at Walt Disney World. As we were prepping for a show, one of the veterans (Joanne) stood up and made an announcement that a young performer named Sioban had left Orlando to be home with her family as she battled cancer. In an effort to raise money for the treatment, Joanne was helping to organize a charity event with a silent auction and live performances that would be filmed and sent to Sioban. Joanne was asking for volunteers to provide those musical performances.
At this point I had been playing guitar and writing music for about six years, though I had never performed my own music and I had never performed by myself. I had also never met Joanne nor Sioban, but as soon as Joanne finished speaking, I felt compelled to march over to her and sign up as a performer.
When the event finally happened, I was really nervous, both because of my minimal performing experience and the fact that I had chosen to play two of the more difficult pieces in my repertoire: Making Progress and a slap jam that eventually evolved into this thing. Somehow the performance went fairly well, and afterwards a guy who I had never met came up to me and said something like “You’re really good at guitar. I’ve been playing for 15 years and I could never do what you do.”
I had completely forgotten about the whole evening until I read this thread, but I like to think that I helped Sioban out or at least gave her a fun little concert to watch. I also like to think that the mystery man’s kind words gave me the confidence to keep playing in front of people.
When I was in 4th grade, I was a member of the Safety Patrol (!) and had to stay at school until the last bus left. One day, the bus left and I ditched my SP gear, hopped on my bike, and decided I was going to race the bus. The bus driver, of course, had no idea we were locked in a race far more important than the Indy 500. I pedaled my little ass off and was pretty far ahead of him on the straight-away when I hit a patch of gravel, laid my bike down and skiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiidded and was stopped suddenly at the ended when my face collided with a water meter or water main or something metal having to do with water. I sat there bleeding, possibly concussing, didn’t know what hit me or vice versa.
The bus driver had seen the whole thing, of course. He pulled his bus over, disentangled me from my bike, and picked me up and loaded me and the bike on the bus and took me home. When we got there, he unloaded me and the bike, carried me inside and waited while I called my mother. He then waited with me until my mother got home to assess the damage… all with a busful of kids to deliver to their stops after.
I missed a few days of school, and when I returned, I had to walk because my bike was toast and I lived too near the school to ride the bus (1.2 miles!). Without a bike, I had to take a leave of absence from Safety Patrol because SP and walking home got me home later than my mom was happy with. When he would see me walking home, he’d always stop the bus and pick me up and drop me at home. For the next ten years, when he’d see me somewhere in our small town, he’d always stop and chat. I wonder what ever happened to him…
Helena
In June 2001, after a call from my panic stricken mother ( her usual state) that my brother was dying ( well, yes, yes he was.) and after dealing with that all day ( and he didn’t die until 2003.)
I was coming home after a craptastic day on the other side of town with no farking food all day ( long, dull story.) in my van having alot of moral and ethical issues racing around in my head. I had a near head on collision in my van.
Other than a coffee mug that hit my head ( going from the front of the van all the way to the back window and smashing it and rebounding back up to klock me behind the ear, I was fine. I had a very minor cut. The other person was fine too. Yay for that and engineers and stuff.)
I sat on the side of the road just in a state of Oh shit. Oh Crap. WTH. Fuck and all those pleasant thoughts that roll through ones head after a day like that to have it end like that. Mind you, we had just had our other car nearly totalled out less than 30 days before because of someone elses mistake. I was a SAHM. (The kids were at my MIL’s.) So now, we had no car.
The pity party was a mosh pit in my head.
Two ladies who were retired state employees coming back from a golf outing stopped and stayed with me until my husband showed up. Other people stopped as the cops and whatnot milled about, but those two ladies never left my side.
God, that was the worst day. June 5th. It just farking poured that day.
Because of them, I always do the minimum of rolling down my window and seeing if everyone is ok or if they need a phone and I’ve stayed with one one truck accident ( kid in an SUV who bounced off our rutted roads at a high rate of speed and smashed the truck. Everyone was fine, the truck was really bad and this kid was a farking mental mess because of what happened. Who wouldn’t be?
“Dad’s going to kill me. …” etc. I gave him words of encouragement and told him that the first words out of his Dad’s mouth when he sees the truck are not going to be , “* I’m going to kill you* they are going to be " Thank God you and everyone are alright.” and there will be tears and hugs. Dad showed up and I was right.
Why can’t I predict lottery numbers as well as other peoples reactions?
Did you find out why your porsche caught on fire?
I love that imagery, “fire dripping down by her feet” - I can just see the catastrophe building bit by bit and then there’s, er, excuse me senor?
I ride a 95 Sportster and I do animal resuce. I depend on the kindness of strangers.
This one made me all verkampt, tho. I was in a hurry and went to a drive through for fast food. The lady in front of me took a long time ordering and when her food arrived, it was bags and bags. I was thinking bad thoughts about how the drive through is for people with small orders, grumbling mentally about inconsiderate people. When she had finally got her food she gave the window person more money. I was :mad: at that time, thinking she had ordered more food.
Nope, she had paid for mine.
Three summers ago I was riding my bike through Charlottesville on a very hot day. I ran out of water and decided to simply ignore the problem and pedal the last five miles or so to my destination. One mile short of the place, I passed out from dehydration, flipped over the handlebars, and landed on the sidewalk. I was bleeding from several places and still unconscious when a car pulled up next to me. It was a soccer mom and her kid. (I mean literally the kid was wearing a uniform.) They bandaged up all my injuries, gave me a bottle of gatorade, and drove me home.
That damn thing burned to a metal shell in 5 minutes or so.
I’m not sure if a auto-topsy would tell us anything, but since it seemed to begin in the dash, I just assumed something electrical.
And I was going to get insurance on it that afternoon…:smack:
Were your pants on fire too?
I think high quality tactical pants are fireproof.
has anyone mentioned Tactical Pants would be a good name for a band?
Did a zombie do something kind for you today or what?
Fuck. :smack:
I’ll have to check with my wife to make sure she’s in the mood.
Rekindled…
Guin, digging up zombies just to snark at another poster – seriously uncool. If you’ve got a beef with someone, take it to the Pit.