The Best Lesson In Being Kind I’ve Ever Learned
By Sharon Synowsky
Back in 1996, I was a twenty-something girl living her best life. I had my first apartment, my first car, a nice boyfriend, and the BEST job EVER as a bartender at the hottest live music bar in Pittsburgh. I was making money, making friends, and making memories. I was living in the moment, carpe diem-ing my way through life.
After a particularly awesome night of work, I was driving home. It was about 3:30 AM. As I passed the 7-Eleven, I noticed a man passed out in the grassy area between the parking lot and the street. I did a double take, drove two blocks, and thought, “No, something isn’t right. You’ve got to go back.”
So, I turned around, parked in the 7-Eleven lot and approached the guy lying in the grass. I checked – he’s breathing, thank God. I didn’t smell alcohol, which I found strange. He’s passed out, he’s got to be drunk, right? So, I nudged the guy a little, he didn’t move. I shook him by his arm, and he roused himself. I said, “Hi, I’m here to help. What do you need?” He looked at me, smiled, and said, “Are you an angel?” I laughed and said, “No, Sir, I’m just a gal who saw you resting here and wanted to see if you needed any help.”
“Nope, you’re an angel, Miss, you’re MY angel. Name’s Floyd R, retired USMC.” He stuck out his left hand and we shook. Floyd (he INSISTED I called him Floyd) said, “No disrespect meant by using my left hand to shake, I just…”then he showed me his right hand, which had no thumb. “Left my thumb over there, but the rest of me came back! High four!” And we clapped hands.
Floyd explained that he lived in Oakland, had been to Southside to visit a friend. He missed the last bus to Oakland. He had gone back to his friend’s place but there was no answer. He didn’t have enough money for a cab. So, he figured he’d just walk around the neighborhood until the buses started running again.
Floyd also explained that he was living at the VA and was undergoing treatment for cancer. He hadn’t eaten much at his friend’s, and felt “wobbly”, so he sat down. “That must have been when I conked over”, he said. He didn’t drink alcohol anymore because of his treatments. I was sitting next to him, and we were getting looks from the few cars driving by. He was telling me stories about his life, avoiding talking about his service (“AH! Boring stuff! Now, when I was ten, my brother threw a Matchbox car at my head. See the scar?”)
As we were sitting there chatting, two gentlemen approached from the 7-Eleven parking lot. The first guy had an orange juice and a muffin. “Hey, I’m a resident at (local hospital), Sir, I thought you might need this.” He gave the food to Floyd. The resident asked Floyd a few questions, nodded and said, “I figured you needed to eat.” The second gentleman said, “My cab is right over there, I can take you home or to the hospital if you need to go there.”
Floyd’s eyes grew watery, and he stubbornly wiped away his tears. “I am the luckiest sunuvabitch tonight. First, this angel appears (high four, angel!), then you guys come along to help too. All because this angel stopped to help.”
We got Floyd to his feet. We got him some more juice and snacks. We got him in the cab (with a round of “high fours” all around). We got him home safely.
Now, I’m not writing this to toot my own horn, pat myself on the back or for any kudos. I’m writing this because of what I learned from helping Floyd that night. One person – ONE – stepping in and stepping up can and DOES motivate others to do the same. One person – ONE – stepping up and doing the right thing can and DOES make a difference.
But mostly I’m writing this in memory of Floyd R, retired USMC, who I’ve thought of often over the past (nearly) thirty years. This guy had a great sense of humor, accepted assistance gratefully and graciously, and made a lasting impression on an otherwise self-centered 20-something living her best life – he taught her that her best life could be better, just by being kind and setting an example with that kindness. And we sure could use more kindness these days.
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