This is a follow-up to my reflections on the limitations of using vintage parts (see post below for an explanation as to how this all happened).
I found myself sitting in the middle of 15th Street bleeding, bruised and bewildered. I had experienced a catastrophic equipment failure that left me with a good case of road rash and an inoperable bike. Within seconds people responded with tremendous kindness and concern.
A man driving the opposite direction stopped to ask if I needed an ambulance. He must have been there for a bit, because I remember him asking that question more than once. One gentle soul, a young woman who had been riding behind me, stayed with me for about fifteen minutes while I collected myself and inventoried which parts of me might be hurt badly. She helped me find the remnant of the crankarm that had snapped. A fellow I hadn’t seen for several years happened to roll up on his bike, bring me and my bike into the corner coffee shop and insist that I sit down and rest. Finally, two young women sitting in the coffee shop, who had witnessed the scene from their table, also talked with me for a few minutes to see if I was okay.
I tried to thank them as I left; I don’t know if they understand the depth of my gratitude. I wasn’t hurt as badly as I could have been and didn’t need any immediate medical attention, but the impact of the kindness of strangers can hardly be underestimated in today’s world. I felt cared for in a fashion I have come not to expect.
To all those who stepped out of their own world for those few minutes that day, I want to say “Thank you.”