Levi Meets Lasting Meaning
Helping Each Other Feel Safe
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The light rail train came down the street with the clatter of steel wheels against steel rails and the ding, ding from its warning bell as Levi was coming out the door of the Caribou coffee shop.
The conductor blew his commanding horn in two short bursts. The light rail train came to a squeaky stop on Washington Avenue at East Bank, the light rail station in the middle of the University of Minnesota’s Minneapolis campus.
"Lady, you're blocking traffic!" an impatient man on the sidewalk on the other side of the street yelled.
Levi spotted a frail woman standing petrified in the middle of the street, straddling one side of the light rail tracks in her white hat, gray coat and worn, black slippers.
"I can't move," she exclaimed in a cracking, weak voice. Her purse, perched on her walker's seat, had fallen onto the pavement in front of her.
"You're holding up traffic, lady!" the guy across the street from Levi again yelled impatiently.
The woman was indeed in trouble. Levi placed his cup of coffee on a table outside the coffee shop so he could run over to help her. She apparently had obeyed the "walk" light starting at the 15-second count as she began pushing her walker across the street.
Even for Levi, barely 70, crossing Washington Avenue was not easy. He was always annoyed with the stop light when it started clicking, so quickly, persistently and audibly, down to 9, 8, 7, 6 …
On a trot down the sidewalk toward the woman, Levi imagined what it was like to suddenly have to stop to retrieve a purse …
Then he heard the dreaded click indicating the traffic light was turning yellow. Levi needed to get her off the tracks – fast.
But a student with an “M” maroon jacket closer to the tracks on the other side of the street from Levi dashed toward her, grabbed her purse from the pavement and helped the woman slowly complete her street crossing.
The light rail’s horn, this time with less persistence, blew once again as it proceeded through the intersection. Its wheels squeaked as the train rolled down Washington Ave. toward its next stop, Stadium Village Station.
Less shaken, Levi remembered Dan Rather once saying, "Americans will put up with anything -- provided it doesn't block traffic."
Yes, that may still be true, he conceded, even in the middle of "Minnesota nice."
Levi’s takeaway tip from his story: Maybe this is why we're all here: to help each other feel safe – even in traffic.
Here’s to mature-adult living!
Jim Hasse, ABC, GCDF retired, author of “52 Shades of Graying”
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Mike was a “regular” among State’ Street’s homeless population in Madison, WI. But, in passing him by almost daily on treks with my recumbent tricycle down the six-block pedestrian mall, I didn’t recognize his character or skill.
One day I flipped my trike on the flat-surfaced mall – not because it was hilly or rough but because I temporarily chose to steer the handle bar with one hand instead of two and the front wheel suddenly veered to the left, flipping the trike on its side.
I was unhurt because I was wearing a helmet and hit the ground slowly. A couple of students tipped my trike back onto its wheels, and I proceeded down the mall.
It was then that Mike stopped me and announced, “I used to be a bike mechanic. Your bike doesn’t sound right. Let me get my tools, and I’ll adjust the chain for ya.”
He did so in a manner of minutes and also fixed my right mirror, which got bent during the tip-over.
I gave Mike a $20 bill, asking myself, “What are the chances of receiving that much unexpected help in a busy section of campus from someone with the right skill and tools …?”
* When has someone helped you feel safe when you needed a “rescue”?