So, it has been quite some time since I last did this.  This is in no way a commentary on goodness in the world, I just have no life and am busy 24/7.

This happened some months ago, and I remember that immediately after I saw this action, I knew it needed some sort of publicity.  I was on a New York trip in February.  A few friends and I were doing this theatre project, and we spent about nine days in the Big Apple.  We traveled on Spirit Airlines.

Side note.  Do not travel Spirit Airlines.  They can be fucking ruthless.  Yes, you get a really cheap fare, but they will nail you for EVERYTHING else.  So if I may offer advice, unless you are taking a nice three day trip, where you have nothing but a backpack, do not use this airline.  They will charge you for everything else.  Carry on, cargo, they’ll get ya.  This is all exposition for the story I am about to tell you.  You know, the story I’m telling that is supposed to offer hope about the world.

So we are about to board the plane returning home.  I of course get charged for my carry on guitar.  So too does the man behind me share a similar fate.  Except his story tugged much more at the heartstring.

This man was on the brink of tears.  Yes, he was yelling at the stewards on Spirit Airlines for charging him an extra forty-three dollars for his carry-on bag. I couldn’t help but pick up, I’m sure everyone else around us could too, his story however.  He continued tirelessly to ask the airline to waive the charges as they were not clearly outlined online.  Frustrated when they continued to deny him any fee waiver, he began to beg.  He did not have the money.  A family member had died, and he had just picked up the earliest flight out to New York to be with his family.  He had to make it back to Chicago for work that day, and could not afford miss anymore work, much more the fees attached to his luggage.

After some time of spectators just watching uncomfortably, my friend Zack steps up from the line and offers the forty-three dollars.  The man at first hesitates slightly, but then re-realizing his predicament, acquiesces and accepts the money.

As we continue to board the plane, I try to catch my Zack’s eye letting him know how awesome what he just did was.  He just assumes his seat humbly, like nothing really extraordinary had just happened.  But that’s just like him.  He’s that good of a guy. Out of a massive crowd of people staring, including myself, one person steps out of the crowd to help a complete stranger, someone in need.

So, folks, there is still good out there, every day.  Good Samaritans and beggars alike are capable of great things. You just have to keep your eyes peeled.  Thank you Zack.

So a remarkable thing happened to me yesterday.  As I was heading to a band practice with my friends, we came upon this man who I believed instinctively of questionable trustworthiness.  

He somewhat ambled around us, and being the sheltered white suburban kid I am, I began to panic somewhat.  Let’s just get the elephant out of this room/blog post; he was black.  I, in my ignorance and my stereotype-programmed brain, immediately questioned this man’s purpose from the very get-go.  And why?

Because he was of a different race than me?

Weak.  Cowardly.  I don’t mean to beat myself up.  We all think these things, I’m not saying that I’m the only person in the world with racist views. And this post is not supposed to be a self-imposed berating to preach some gospel of acceptance (okay, maybe it is a little bit).  But that is not what makes this story extraordinary.

Oh yes, friends, the best is yet to come.

So this man approaches me and my two friends, and he asks for a minute of our time.  Somewhat cornered, I oblige.

He continues to us, and I am roughly paraphrasing, “Hello there, I’m from the South Side of Chicago, and I’m in town to visit my Nana at the hospital, and my car broke down.  Can I have ten dollars? She’s very sick and I need to visit her.  I swear, I’m not a drug dealer, I just need ten dollars so I can see her before she passes away.”

So the thought passed through my head. Is this guy pulling our legs? Why on earth should I believe you?

My one friend gracefully dodges the question: “I’m sorry, I don’t have any cash on me.  I wish I could help.”

My other friend refuses to make eye contact.

I, under pressure, do the first thing that comes to my head.  I give him ten dollars.

Immediately, I start kicking myself.  I totally just got conned.  How feeble.  Way to be a sucker.  But this guy looks me in the eye, and says, very sincerely, “God bless you, sir.”

I stop, floored somewhat.  This look in this man’s eye is not one of insincerity.  In fact, the look he gave me was perhaps one of the most genuine exchanges I have yet experienced.

So, I think, maybe, I was wrong. I think he was dead serious.  And maybe I actually helped a stranger. Maybe not.  Maybe I did get played.  But that’s not even what this blog post is about.

And for those of you who may think that this is just some cheap attempt at promoting myself as some kind benefactor to strangers, remember this.  I’m also prejudiced and I have issues I need to work on.

Humble pie served.

We as people spend too much time worrying about whether or not we’re being screwed.  But who really cares? So what if we give to strangers?  This man was my reminder that we need to have more faith in our fellow man.  I think he is extraordinary because he humbled himself.  And this post is for him.  Thank you, anonymous man.

This bit is about a girl who I work with.  Her name is Katie, and not only does she work with me as a server at a country club (no easy feat, I can tell you), but she also works with students with disabilities in a high school.  She is one of the hardest working people I know, and I want to celebrate her efforts.

Of late, she has seemed sad.  I’m not totally sure why, but I suspect she is tired from running from job to job.  What once I saw as a little spark in her eyes has faded some, and it saddens me to see the spirit in her life dwindle as it has.

She, however, tries to remain positive. I stole her facebook status as a title.  She’s just great, and I admire her drive to do be her best self.  This one’s for you, Katie. It takes a special type of person to do the work you do.  

Katie is a prime example of an ordinary person leading an extraordinary life.  You don’t have to move mountains to be extraordinary.  All it takes is heart and drive.  Katie has plenty of both.

Wednesday, December 28, 2011 at 03:14AM