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A Small Instance of Humanity

January 4, 2011

So there I was, stuck in traffic on M-street, trying to inch my way to the George Washington Parkway.  Going the opposite direction was a small car full of five middle-aged Indian men, all with designer suits, twinkling gold watches, and muted ties.  At the stop light, the driver had to break quickly.  The trunk of the car flew open.  For a moment there was consternation in the car and much flapping of hands and confused looks.  The question of the moment clearly was, “Should one of us get out of the car quickly and close the trunk before the traffic lights change?”  Or, more succinctly, “Can we make it in time?”  Us fellow commuters, sitting in the cars around them, were wondering the same question.  Everyone was focused on this mini dilemma unfolding around us on a Monday morning.

Just then, a young, black man in sweats loped into the road, went over to the car, and shut the trunk door.  He gave the car occupants an easy smile and started back to the sidewalk.  The Indian men, as one, even the driver, clapped their hands together and bobbed their heads in thanks to their 30 years younger benefactor.   The audience of commuters smiled.  A few could be seen clapping through the windshields of their cars.  The traffic started up again and the Indian clown car full of, undoubtedly, important men, drove off.

One Comment leave one →
  1. January 8, 2011 12:19 PM


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