Sometimes we need to take a step back and take a look the place we are in our lives and in our world. Even if that step is only for a brief pause. This morning gave me one such moment and reason to do so. I was driving down Ocean Blvd on my way to Venice Beach running an errand. When I passed the intersection at Barnard Way, I saw on the corner lawn an empty wheelchair with a large crumpled pile of something dark in front of it and on the ground. As I neared the other side of the intersection, I saw that the dark crumpled something in front of the wheel chair was a human life. A gray haired human life.
Since it was impossible for me to stop right then and there, I made the mental note to check on the situation on my way back. I glanced around quickly and saw pedestrians walking by and cars driving by without anyone stopping or taking any notice. For all I could tell, the human life was lifeless.
I continued on my way to my friends house to pick up the saturday edition of The New York Times. It seems friend and best selling author Noel Riley Fitch (Grand Literary Cafes of Europe, Biography of Julia Child) had the immortal honor of being named as a clue in the crossword puzzle. Something worth seeing and having to send on to her in London. As I parked the car, I could see the sparkling Pacific Ocean waves and feel the fresh ocean breeze on my face. Just to have a moment like that is worth the effort.
Having secured the paper, I got back into the car and started driving back towards Barnard Way. Once I was at the intersection, I could clearly see that the wheelchair was still there. I entered the left turn lane, turned the corner, made a u-turn and parked in the red zone, flashers on. I got out of the car and looked around. There were people driving by and talking on their cell phones, people walking by engaged in their own minds, people on bicycles riding by without a hesitation in their peddle. Everybody going about their busy lives without a notice or glance to any other human around them.
I approached the empty wheelchair and there on the ground in front was an old man curled up in fetal position, his left leg missing at the knee sported a cotton white stump cover. The clothing he wore was dark, dirty and torn. His gray hair had hints of old blond and his sun worn face was rumpled and wrinkled and covered in 4 day old razor stubble. His eyes held shut and his hands tucked in close to his chin and chest, he was curled and unmoving. I looked at him from a distance of 3 feet. I could not tell if he was breathing or not, though his color and pallor indicated that he was not dead. Of this I took relief. I stepped closer and speaking out loud asked “Are you okay? Do you need any help?” I waited for a response. There was none. I asked again, a little louder “Do you need any help? Are you okay?” I watched him closely for any signs of movement. There were none. Then I saw his chest heave. He had just drawn in a deep breath, exhaled and breathed again. He made sleeping breath sounds, as if in a deep, sound sleep.
It appeared as though he was napping, so I retreated. I did not want to wake him as I was certain that whatever dream he was dreaming was far better than the reality he was living. As I stepped back to the illegally parked car, another car pulled up to the stop-the guy looked at me puzzled. I just made a “napping” motion with my hands and head. Seeing that, the driver turned right around the corner and went on about his business.
I got back into the car and took a good look around this tiny slice of beautiful southern California and wondered just how many lost and missing souls are really here, laying around. The people that are discarded by life and fall to the wayside because their usefulness seems to have expired, or life has beaten them up in some form or fashion and they simply cannot find a way to heal.
As I began to drive away, I thought about how many people must’ve driven by that intersection this morning and how many bothered to stop-just to make sure that the already distressed appearing human was not in more distress. And the answer was clear. Nobody. Nobody stopped. Nobody cared.
In the hustle and bustle that is LA, sometimes it is good just to stop and look around. Just to stop and breathe in a moment, to reflect on the good fortune that many of us have in terms of health, education friends, family, good jobs, and a beautiful place to live.
I know this morning I took an extra minute to take stock of myself-for all the illness and tragedy that has been in my life for the past 3 years, for a brief moment I was able to step out of my own turmoil and focus on someone else. In doing that I felt connected to my certain self once again.
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