Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Help! I Need Somebody …

In general, riding the Metro is every man, woman, child, and elbow for themselves. EXCEPT … when a fellow traveler is in some form of distress.

It’s amazing to watch. Everybody with their heads down, eyes focused on reading material, earbuds implanted, not talking, minding their own business and expecting everyone else to do the same. And then somebody will ask for help, and help is always granted.

Typically it’s some poor tourist with one foot on the platform, one foot inside the train, door chimes chiming, asking in a shaky voice: “What line is this?” or “Is this going to Metro Center?” or “Can I get to the Smithsonian on this train?” Somebody will ALWAYS help—almost always in a nice way, too. I have yet to see someone left stranded in that doorway netherworld, and not just because I help whenever I can. Usually somebody else on the train will beat me to the punch. It’s refreshing, really, to know my fellow Washingtonians aren’t quite as scowly as they appear.

That courtesy extends beyond simple directions, though; I was reminded of this the other day on my way to work. While waiting for my Yellow Line on the lower platform at Gallery Place, the Green pulls up and announces: “This train will be holding here momentarily for a sick customer.” My first thought, I admit: “Oh, great,” because normally “sick customer” = “something more serious is going on, we just don’t want to tell you what” = “MAJOR delay.”

This time, though, the description is apt. Just a few seconds after the announcement, I’m pulled from the pages of my book by two guys saying “excuse me” with urgency. Their backs are to me, but as they approach it becomes readily apparent they have a young man under the armpits and are dragging his rather limp body away from the train and across the platform toward a nearby bench, two motherly figures in tow.

From what I overhear, seems the kid just passed out straight away while approaching the station. These two guys acted so fast, they have the fainter out of the train and on the bench before Metro personnel even arrive at the car (other riders point the first responder toward the bench). Dressed in their suits, they’re obviously on their way to work and, I’m sure, didn’t think this is how their morning would start. But they jumped in and helped immediately. The women, too; at first I think they’re related to the kid, but as the Metro guy comes over, all four of them start to fade into the crowd, their job done.

One of the women hangs around long enough to provide a brief description of what happened to the Metro employee. Then she looks back at the kid, now flat on his back on the bench but seeming to come around, and says: “You feel better, and God bless you.”

No ma’am, God bless you—and your three fellow Good Samaritans—for giving me a little bit of hope for the human race on a Monday morning.

1 comment:

erica said...

aw, thanks. this was nice