We went to the SC football game at the Coliseum Saturday. It was my first game using the walker. We were both a bit apprehensive about getting me there and back safely. We parked in Pasadena and rode the trains to the Coliseum. What struck us both was the kindness and helpfulness of strangers along the way.
There was the anonymous fellow who stayed right by my elbow as I wobbled across the ragged pavement of Vermont Avenue from the train platform.
There was the security guy who let me in the "credentials only" gate and helped me over obstacles.
There was the usher who held my arm and helped prop me up all the way up 20 rows and across to my seat.
There was the total stranger who held the back of my belt to make sure I made it slowly back down 20 rows of steps, and brought my walker down, too.
There was the annoying tatooed young woman talking loudly on her phone next to me waiting on the train platform who then held back the surging crowd and made them give me room to get on the train first.
There were the three young men, a little rough looking, who offered me their seats and got up to give Lyn a seat when they apparently sensed she was reluctant to ask.
There were half a dozen others who offered their help and made sure I was OK, steadied my walker, or went out of their way to make room for us.
We kept thinking, we were never that eager to volunteer to help others when the roles were reversed.
I also had to notice that most of the people helping us were not white like us. They were black, hispanic, asian, who knows what, and we certainly didn't care.
Maybe some of it was the Fight On spirit of my fellow Trojans on game day, but, on the trains, it was just people who use mass transit. This was central LA, in gritty urban neighborhoods of scary reputation. I suspect we would have seen the same kindness anywhere.
We see a lot of negatives about people in the news. Saturday, we were wowed by the overwhelming kindness of strangers. It is one of the blessings of disability that I am privileged to experience that kindness.
