6 januari 2006 Archives

I hesitate to use a Judeo-Christian term for something so much larger than the Jews' and Christians' stab at Polytheism, but 'angel' is also an American term, a somatic and non-religious concept applied to someone who helps and protects when he or she could easily just walk away.

There were such people about me when I had the accident a week ago today. I never got any names, but I did have a flash of lucidity enough to have Sam save the phone # from his cell phone: the woman who first helped me and called 911 then called Sam to let him know what was going on, so I figured her number probably came through to Sam's phone. So I have her number, but I do not remember her name. I will call her when I have some sense that my situation has stabilized (with a chest tube still in me, I don't have that confidence).

But there were others, more than I could have expected:

• a man with a soft and beautiful voice who removed his own jacket and put it on the wet pavement to keep my head propped up. He spoke to me, telling me help was on the way and that he was sure I'd be well taken care of. He stroked my head softly as he said this.
• the woman who was first there, who listened to my wailing and who, after making all the calls she needed to, removed her scarf—lime green and very soft—and wrapped my bleeding right arm with it protecting the wounds from the cold, wet, dirty pavement.
• other men who showed up, getting thermal sheets and other blankets and covering me with probably five or six different things while being sure not to move my body at all.
• two that I saw uprighting the Vespa and getting it out of the street.
• There were people who stood behind me, in the street, to be sure that traffic kept away from me
• the paramedics, who were the right mix of moxie and empathy.
• the police, who politely intruded to obtain the necessary information.

This is San Francisco to me. These are San Franciscans, likely not Believers of God, likely not penitent or self-abnegating or particularly sensitive to others or in the practice of putting others' needs before their own. These are not people I would venture are martinets or following any absolutist doctrine in their day to day lives.

Yet these are people who saw someone in need, and rushed to do it. And went beyond the call of the duty they may or may not have felt obliged to. These were just decent people who helped me out. They helped me out in ways I cannot fully describe or even attempt to measure.

And beyond that one cell phone number I have, if, by the magic of San Francisco's serendipity and wondrous connectedness and of you who were among those I listed are reading this, I beg you to say hello. Do me that one final kindness of letting me know who you are.

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From the lovely Miss Gideonse...