The Bishop and the Butterfly: Murder, Politics, and the End of the Jazz Age
    Donal's picture

    Today you ... tomorrow me

    I was reading 3 Quarks Daily, then one thing led to another and I found this story on reddit. And it's a great story for so many reasons. The writer was commenting on a thread, Have You Ever Picked Up a Hitchhiker?:

    Just about every time I see someone I stop. I kind of got out of the habit in the last couple of years, moved to a big city and all that, my girlfriend wasn't too stoked on the practice. Then some shit happened to me that changed me and I am back to offering rides habitually. If you would indulge me, it is long story and has almost nothing to do with hitch hiking other than happening on a road.

    This past year I have had 3 instances of car trouble. A blow out on a freeway, a bunch of blown fuses and an out of gas situation. All of them were while driving other people's cars which, for some reason, makes it worse on an emotional level. It makes it worse on a practical level as well, what with the fact that I carry things like a jack and extra fuses in my car, and know enough not to park, facing downhill, on a steep incline with less than a gallon of fuel.

    Anyway, each of these times this shit happened I was DISGUSTED with how people would not bother to help me. I spent hours on the side of the freeway waiting, watching roadside assistance vehicles blow past me, for AAA to show. The 4 gas stations I asked for a gas can at told me that they couldn't loan them out "for my safety" but I could buy a really shitty 1-gallon one with no cap for $15. It was enough, each time, to make you say shit like "this country is going to hell in a handbasket."

    But you know who came to my rescue all three times? Immigrants. Mexican immigrants. None of them spoke a lick of the language. But one of those dudes had a profound affect on me.

    He was the guy that stopped to help me with a blow out with his whole family of 6 in tow. I was on the side of the road for close to 4 hours. Big jeep, blown rear tire, had a spare but no jack. I had signs in the windows of the car, big signs that said NEED A JACK and offered money. No dice. Right as I am about to give up and just hitch out there a van pulls over and dude bounds out. He sizes the situation up and calls for his youngest daughter who speaks english. He conveys through her that he has a jack but it is too small for the Jeep so we will need to brace it. He produces a saw from the van and cuts a log out of a downed tree on the side of the road. We rolled it over, put his jack on top, and bam, in business. I start taking the wheel off and, if you can believe it, I broke his tire iron. It was one of those collapsible ones and I wasn't careful and I snapped the head I needed clean off. Fuck.

    No worries, he runs to the van, gives it to his wife and she is gone in a flash, down the road to buy a tire iron. She is back in 15 minutes, we finish the job with a little sweat and cussing (stupid log was starting to give), and I am a very happy man. We are both filthy and sweaty. The wife produces a large water jug for us to wash our hands in. I tried to put a 20 in the man's hand but he wouldn't take it so I instead gave it to his wife as quietly as I could. I thanked them up one side and down the other. I asked the little girl where they lived, thinking maybe I could send them a gift for being so awesome. She says they live in Mexico. They are here so mommy and daddy can pick peaches for the next few weeks. After that they are going to pick cherries then go back home. She asks if I have had lunch and when I told her no she gave me a tamale from their cooler, the best fucking tamale I have ever had.

    So, to clarify, a family that is undoubtedly poorer than you, me, and just about everyone else on that stretch of road, working on a seasonal basis where time is money, took an hour or two out of their day to help some strange dude on the side of the road when people in tow trucks were just passing me by. Wow...

    But we aren't done yet. I thank them again and walk back to my car and open the foil on the tamale cause I am starving at this point and what do I find inside? My fucking $20 bill! I whirl around and run up to the van and the guy rolls his window down. He sees the $20 in my hand and just shaking his head no like he won't take it. All I can think to say is "Por Favor, Por Favor, Por Favor" with my hands out. Dude just smiles, shakes his head and, with what looked like great concentration, tried his hardest to speak to me in English:

    "Today you.... tomorrow me."

    Rolled up his window, drove away, his daughter waving to me in the rear view. I sat in my car eating the best fucking tamale of all time and I just cried. Like a little girl. It has been a rough year and nothing has broke my way. This was so out of left field I just couldn't deal.

    In the 5 months since I have changed a couple of tires, given a few rides to gas stations and, once, went 50 miles out of my way to get a girl to an airport. I won't accept money. Every time I tell them the same thing when we are through:

    "Today you.... tomorrow me."

    tl;dr: long rambling story about how the kindness of strangers, particularly folks from south of the border, forced me to be more helpful on the road and in life in general. I am sure it won't be as meaningful to anyone else but it was seriously the highlight of my 2010.

    Comments

    That is a very touching story Donal, thanks for sharing.


    Thanks for the uplift Donal.  I live in the "fly-over" zone and twenty-five miles from the closest stop lite.  There are few locations where one can get a cellular contact.  I have never failed to offer roadside assistance and have never failed to be offered the same.  We hicks are dependent on each other.  I fish the Mississippi a lot and have never failed to receive or offer help when it even appeared that a fellow boatman was in difficulty.  I have never accepted a dollar for getting someone safely to their destination nor have I ever experienced my helper accepting money from me.  I do carry cash for just such an event.  When I can aid a driver or a boater, the satisfaction I get is far better payment than a twenty.  When a cash reward is offered , it's always the same...

    "Today you.... tomorrow me."


    We hicks are dependent on each other.

    At the risk of over-generalizing, this pattern does ring true for me, as well. It seems the more rural the territory, the more people are willing to stop and offer a hand. There are multiple reasons for this, I'm sure, from feeling more connected to your neighbors to finding it harder to use the excuse that someone else will help. (The irony is that in a city with millions, fewer people will stop than in a town with dozens.)

    I've also noticed a North-South tendency, with Southern cities being showing slightly more hospitality than Northern ones, but this tendency is not as strong as the urban-rural trend. (Interestingly enough, I've heard that lots of other countries report a similar trend, but that it reverses south of the equator. Maybe more sunlight increases our tendency to lend a helping hand.)


    Thank you for shaing this.


    Thanks Donal.  Excellent story.  Just a couple of weeks ago I ran out of gas on an early Saturday morning some 5 miles out of town.  It was snowing, I had no coat with me, and I had left my cell back at my place.  Just as I pulled over, and was pushing my car enough off the highway, another car pulled over. The guy drove me to the nearest gas station, which lent me a gas can as long I promised to bring it back, and then drove me back to my car.

    I will remember: You today...me tomorrow.


    Thanks so much for this, Donal. I have to admit that I am afraid to help stranded people -- some guy in my parking lot asked me to give his battery a jump, and I did it,but called a friend and gave his license number to her just in case. I actually like to help people, but I really do fear the whacks out there. How do we know the difference?

    Donal thank you for sharing this story at a time when I am starting to think humanity is beyond saving it is nice to know that people still care about each other even when they are stangers. I must admit with so many bad things happening to me I have become less trusting of strangers and am weary of hitch hikers. For the people how are picking up strangers all I can say is trust your instincts, know your surroundings, and it is not a bad idea to call a friend and let them know the situation. Not becoming a victim means being prepared. Happy holidays and new year.