Monthly Archives: March 2012

Standing in the street…


I had just finished my morning drop off circle and was heading to the gym to put a little time in with my friends  free weights and treadmill.  The route I would have normally taken was blocked off (I have no idea why), and I ended up in the turn lane of a major intersection, waiting for the light to change.

As I sat, my eye was drawn to an older woman and a little boy across the way. I watched in horror as she went to step off the sidewalk, slipped on the ice and came crashing down on the curb.  Her head hit the sidewalk, her back hit the curb, and her legs were in the street.  It was a hard fall,  and she was not moving.

In stunned disbelief, I watched vehicle after vehicle slow down, look at her, and keep on going!  Some people honked their horns, some rolled down their windows, I can hope they said something kind.

The light changed.  I pulled up onto the sidewalk, and another woman did the same.  We made it to the injured woman about the same time, and were able to see that the little boy with her had gotten her phone and called 911, then handed the phone to her, and she was telling dispatch what had happened.

The dispatcher told us not to move her, in order to minimize further injury.  So we stood there, in the middle of the street, during morning rush hour, directing some pretty irritated motorists around this helpless, hurting woman.

The paramedics and the police showed up about the same time and worked together to load the injured woman into the ambulance.

a community service officer had been called to come and pick up the little boy.

While we waited, I talked to the little guy with her.  He said he was 10, and they were trying to get to the bus stop so he could get to school.  I asked if this was his Grandma, and he said not my real grandma, she is my foster grandma, and she takes care of me.  I asked if there was anyone he could call when he got to school to let them know what happened.  He said no, there was no one.

My heart, which was feeling a little bruised already, broke.

As I watched him climb up into the CSO’s truck and drive away, I could not help but think about what might be going through his mind.

Where will he stay tonight?  Who will feed him?  How will he get to school tomorrow?  Is his grandma going to be ok?  Can he go home?

And I thought about the older woman.

How horrible to be there, unable to move, watching people drive on by, annoyed because YOU are lying there in the street.

If I could find those people who drove on by, those who honked or rolled their eyes in irritation, I would grab each and every one by the shoulders, shake them and scream, scream, SCREAM


was there a meeting you just HAD to get to?  Was it her appearance that made you keep going?  Did you just assume someone else would step up, so you were off the hook?