I am very grateful to be the publisher for the Arizona Journal of Real Estate & Business. Each month I have the chore and privilege of writing an article for this publication. I have been often encouraged to POST these however due to the LENGTH I have been reluctant. About a year ago today I had a true life experience that is appropriate to share this night, before a day of APPRECIATION -- here it is entitled a A 9-1-1 Twist It’s Wednesday afternoon about 3:30 the day before Thanksgiving. I am in my office finishing up a couple last minute things in order to leave soon, to attend to a multitude of other things, in order to be prepared for tomorrow’s Day of Gratitude. Facing my computer screen with my back to the door a loud burly voice booms across my office and I hear “Can you HELP me - I am lost”. I turn to see a large distraught man with a very good size dog in tow. He is seemingly shaking and shaken by his situation. He states he just got into town and cannot find his way anywhere. I normally encounter these kinds of situations while at Circle K pumping gas, from someone requesting bus fair or gas money. However standing in the doorway of my office this man is aggressively stating he needs some kind of assistance. He continues to rant about how he has been walking for hours and cannot find his way, for he is new to town and has medical issues. With my work before me and pressing deadlines, I am a disturbed to have to figure out how to get this man on his way and more importantly, out of my way so I can be on my way to family, friends, fun and food! He and his dog are now approaching my desk and he is carrying a large back-pack. I stand-up immediately in order to best size-up the situation so as to be prepared to exercise any necessary options. The burly man states he has been walking for nearly two days trying to locate a hair salon for a haircut. Given the length and condition of his hair, he could have said two years and I would be a believer. He reaches in his pocket for God knows what; and I am now on full physical alert and wondering if I will miss tomorrow’s trimmings. The man pulls out an item and says let me show you… Within seconds (seeming like minutes) I realize the item is a phone. He proceeds to dial a number. Both of us stand there waiting for the phone to be answered. His nervous manners catch my attention. Hearing a woman’s voice on the other end he says, “It’s me again; can you tell this man how I can find you?” He then hands me the phone. I explain to this lady the situation, to which she states she owns a hair salon on 5th Avenue in Scottsdale. She gives me directions to tell the man how he can get there. After I hang up the phone, I begin to tell him what she said to me. It is obvious to me that based on his current physical, more importantly mental condition he will never find this place on his own. So now I am faced with one of those dilemmas we all have been faced with: Do I interrupt my important duties and responsibilities to assist this man? He has not asked for a lift; however it is clear that without one, he has no chance to find his way anywhere. My other concern is do I trust him and/or for that matter his dog? Without time to think this through, I offer to take him to his destination. Quickly walking him out of the building into the dark covered parking lot, I am on full alert. When I realize that this stranger’s large and not very clean canine will soon be in my newly purchased car, now I am saying to myself, ‘What are you thinking – apparently not much!’ I open the back door of my once pristine car and coach this smelly dog to be the first living organism to occupy the back seat… so much for that new-car-scent. Hairy the dog jumps in seemingly familiar with the routine. Meanwhile the man with his large backpack and much larger physical frame is struggling to get into my front passenger seat. With all passengers on board I start the car. My life flashes before me. Wondering if this whole thing is a set-up, all I know at this point is if this is my last act on earth it may score some points as I stand before St. Peter requesting entry, assuming generosity trumps stupidity. Setting my finger on I-Phone’s pre-set 9-1-1 speed dial feature, we proceed to his destination. Thinking strategically I am doing my best to build rapport which could be advantageous, before he binds me with the probable duck-tape in his back-back. While chauffeuring this man and his dog, he again shares his story that he just got here from New York and knows not a soul, saying he has multiple physical challenges due to a series of strokes. He shares that is name is John and his hairy companion is ‘Skip’. Five minutes later we pull up to the salon. Upon seeing a woman out front waiting for our arrival anxieties of the unknown subside. I pull up as close to the curb as I can get in order to better assist John out of my car. The woman is stepping forward to greet us, for apparently she has in fact been trying to direct my now burly new friend to her salon. As I transfer John into her care, I make arrangements with her to get him back to his apartment. She assures me that they will take care of John. The man with his dog is beyond grateful, as tears come from his eyes. I am resolved and relieved, realizing everything John told me turned out to be true. The next day, Thanksgiving Day, I find myself giving thanks for being able to assist this disoriented man and his companion dog. Most importantly, John caused me to pause once again in gratefulness for my personal health. This potential 9-1-1 moment actually became a 9-1-1 appreciation alert: John, who appeared 55 years old or so is a reminder of how health or lack of it can take away so much of what we take for granted each day. I will likely never ever see John and Skip again, however the memories of these thirty minutes filled with trepidation, speculation, and then much appreciation will last forever.
Posted on: Thu, 27 Nov 2014 01:25:14 +0000
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