Good Samaritans come in all shapes and sizes, and seem plentiful in my home town. Sometimes my city surprises me.
In summer 2009, on my way to work, I was running late, as usual. I was certain I had enough juice to make it to work, despite the fact that the low on fuel warnings started two days before. About halfway to work while going 65 on the highway I ran out of gas. One of the hidden benefits of a hybrid is that you can keep coasting and going on battery for quite some distance before you're completely kaput. I pulled off the highway and tried in vain to spot and steer toward a gas station to no avail. I came to a full stop on a one-way street just shy of a low-traffic intersection on the border of Cleveland and Lakewood.
Frustrated, I called work and AAA and settled in to listen to npr and wait. After a few moments, the good samaritans started lining up to help. The first to stop by was a pick up equipped with a snow plow offered to push me through the intersection to a spot he thought might be safer. Another just asked to make sure I was ok.
A young man passed me up by several hundred feet when he suddenly changed his mind, threw on his brakes and then backed up all the way up to my car. Sharing that he lived very near by, he kindly offered to go home, get his gas can, fill it at a station and bring me some gas. I declined, thanking him and assuring him that AAA was on its way; I didn't want to trouble him. After declining several times, I sent him on his way; he was still clearly more worried about my predicament than I was.
The next good samaritan to stop was a pick up truck with two women in their 70s. Passing me at first, they had been headed to meet a third friend who owns a business on the opposite corner. Curious, and sensing I was stuck, they walked over to the car and asked if they could help. I explained that AAA was on the way, and that I was "just fine, thank you!". Not willing to take no for an answer, all three ladies insisted that we move the car to the other side of the intersection. Despite my objections, they simply went behind the car and started pushing, shouting to me to put it in neutral. There I was, in my shiny silver thirsty Prius, being pushed along the road by three tough old ladies! Had they been fictional, I couldn't have imagined them more vibrant. With white hair and dressed in colorful decorated sweatshirts and jeans, I imagined they had names like Flo, Maud or Gertie. These three were up for it, laughing all the while, having fun, and enjoying the opportunity to help. I couldn't say no, no matter how embarrassing. After we moved the car, they peppered me with questions about the hyrbid engine, how it worked, what it felt like to drive, what kind of mileage I (normally) get, how much they cost, and on and on. After I'd answered everything they could think to ask, just as quickly as they'd arrived, all three friends hopped into the pickup, heading for their weekly ladies breakfast.
Still smiling from the senior brigade, the young man from the neighborhood unexpectedly returned. This time, with two gallons of gas in hand. I was amazed. Instead of getting on the highway as he'd originally planned, he had gone home, got the can, filled it and came back, just as he'd offered to earlier. He said he didn't like that I might have to wait as long as an hour for AAA, and simply felt obligated to help. Not 30 seconds after he arrived and started filling my tank, AAA arrived with another gallon of gas. We all laughed and smiled as I told them about the snow plow and the three ladies, laughing about how none of our mornings turned out the way we'd hoped, but instead turned out for the better.
Running out of gas on South Marginal Road on my way to work on a fall Thursday could have been a disaster, ruining my day and been a source of frustration. Instead, it turned out to be a mini-miracle of the best of who we are.
Thank you, Flo, Maud, Gertie, Triple A guy, Neighborhood Guy, the couple with the snow plow... Thank you, Cleveland!
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