Forgo the self-centered “me generation” and stop and help someone. This little tale of truth is from “Notes To Stephanie: Days Remembered”.
One Sunday, we went driving around the west side of Lake Worth and also to Lake Country as you liked to do many times. In that sense, that little trip was no different than others we had done, but that Sunday would be unlike the others.
We left the Lake Country area and went to a new housing development via some back roads overlooking the south end of Eagle Mountain Lake. Next, we turned into the place where you wanted to go, which was an area with large lots that stair-stepped up a hill to the east of the road.
We drove slowly up the street, looking at the empty lots until we got to the top of the hill and stopped. We slurped down a beer or two and looked down the hill at the terrain, trying to guess what the price per lot was. We saw a couple of cars go by, then left that spot, and drove to the development next to that one.
That tract was more developed since it had several finished homes on it. It was adjacent to an older “bread and butter” neighborhood you were familiar with from your real estate days. We drove slowly down the street, which went south, and then turned around and came back.
As we passed a house, we went by a car with a lady in its front seat. She looked like she was asleep. We wondered about her; we thought perhaps something was wrong with her, so we turned back around and parked the truck in front of her car. She did not move or notice our arrival, and our fears were fueled by her lack of movement.
We got out and looked in at her. She was out like a light it seemed. Before calling 911, we knocked on the windows pretty hard to see if she would wake up. And to our surprise and relief, she did jerk up.
We asked her if she was okay as she rolled down her window—still a little groggy. We asked her again if she was well and explained what we had seen. She said she was looking at houses, too, and she had simply dozed off in her car. It was a warm day, so that seemed logical to us. We ended the conversation and left her and that neighborhood for home.
That Sunday afternoon was more than just a joy ride, looking for a house for us. It also showed we could think about and care for other people. For a moment, we were good Samaritans who were at the right place and time to help someone. In this age, how many people would have simply kept driving, thinking they did not want to get involved? Or simply said, “It’s not my problem”? Probably a lot of our fellow citizens would have done just that.
It is a shame that people cannot, even for a moment, divorce themselves from their own interests to simply see if they could help another person who might not be able to help himself. We can’t vouch for others, but we certainly took a chance and asked if we could help someone we did not know. Others should do that, too, since you never know when the day will come when you might be the lady in the car and really need someone’s help.