Please read the whole thing; it’s not what you think, and the favor I’m asking isn’t either.
Last night Long Beach Opera did a production of Frid’s Anne Frank in West Los Angeles. It was – again – an amazing and heartrending show. We’ll (I’m on the Board, be grateful I’m not singing or playing) be doing it again Sunday night in Long Beach – sold out, thankfully.
The performance was amazing, and wrenching. Our artistic director contacted Laura Hillman – a poet and herself a young Holocaust survivor – to read from her own writings as an interplay with the soprano’s singing of Frid’s work and readings from Anne’s diary.We’re kind of a shoestring organization, so we divvy up responsibilities – mine for this performance was to purchase the refreshments – about $200 worth of cookies and veggie platters, sodas, juice and ice.
I was late doing the shopping, worried that I wouldn’t get the food there in time, and hustling to the venue through sticky Los Angeles traffic when I passed a homeless man, laying in the gutter on Westwood Boulevard near Ohio. I registered him as a Land Rover juked left to avoid running him over and passed him by, worried for a moment that the platters of cookies in my back seat would fall over as I maneuvered.
I picked up my cell phone and called 911, finally getting through to the CHP operator who transferred me to the local LA firehouse who would take the call. I explained that he was laying in traffic, and I was worried that he’d be hit by a car, and they promised to go out and take care of him.
And I drove off to deliver my cookies and juice, vaguely disquieted but unsure why.
And today, reading this, I realized why. I had the duty and capability to intervene, and I didn’t.
All I had to do was go around the block, stop my car, and put on my hazard flashers while I waited for the fire department to show up. I didn’t have to deal with picking the drunk and filthy man up, or treating him as the firefighters would. I could have sat for a few minutes and been late with the cookies – no one would have died. I could have taken fifteen minutes.
And all day I’ve been vaguely ashamed that I didn’t – somehow more ashamed after sitting and listening last night to stories of inhumanity set to haunting music.
So listen. The next time you have a chance to intervene – especially at such a small cost to yourself – please do. That request is my way of shedding some of the shame I’ve been feeling, and apologizing to the sad and helpless man I left exposed to cars in the street.
The Kitty Genovese effect.
Don’t beat yourself up too badly, A.L. You did intervene, and you did a hell of a lot more than most people would have. The bad news is, we’re all like that, to one degree or another.
The good news is, having been there, I can promise you that once you know the KGE feeling for what it is, it gets easier to recognize and shrug off.
I went to Harry’s Place and the comments made me want to puke. If this is the view of what we have become, it is time for me to leave. The problem is, there is not a better place. Sad commentary isn’t it?
Please go read this: “Tribes”:http://www.ejectejecteject.com/archives/000129.html
You are almost there Armed. You are correct, you should have stopped. You did make the phone call. That is a modicum of salve for the soul.
Why I will never go on another cruise again. Just about a year ago, Battle Command and I decided we would try this peculiar form of vacation for the 1st time. The occasion was our 10th anniversary. We got on the ship and did the usual stuff. Ate, drank, etc. We were not that enamored of the cuisine, it was just fair. We thought that maybe we are just spoiled and it may be we are. We both appreciate good food and know how to cook it also.
Long story short, the 2nd night out after having retired to our cabin more than a little bored, we are awoken by the cries of a young woman screaming for help just outside the cabin. And you can HEAR the terror in her voice. So, out I go in my boxers that pass for night wear with a hastily thrown on t-shirt. There is a middle aged man dragging an obviously young woman down the hall. She is screaming for help, he is yelling for her to be quiet. I think you get the picture. There are others in the hall but most are hanging back. He makes a last effort and almost gets her in his room. I am moving to intercept when from behind me a young woman goes by me like a shot saying, “No, no, no, this ain’t gonna happen!” She shoves man, I help girl up and get in his face to tell him to back up. Girl who shoved man asks me if I have got it and backs up. Girl dragging man says, “That is my daughter! You don’t understand!” I tell him all the more reason for him to BACK THE FCUK UP. Security comes and I tell them what has transpired. They say they have it.
All settles down for the night.
Facts:
Daughter’s dad was really, really drunk.
Dad’s daughter was really, really high.
He wanted her in.
She wanted to be out and having “fun”.
Conflict ensues because of universal bad judgment.
Next day, drunk dad is still on the ship much to my chagrin. Daughter is hanging with dad and step-mom(?) and brother. Oh, yeah, brother defends dad to any who would listen the night before. From what I saw Dad was, at the least, physically abusive to the daughter.
Bottom line was I thought rape was going to happen and I waded into the fray. It WAS NOT going to happen with me in ear shot. Nor was it for the young woman who went by me like I was standing still. (I think she may have been treated the same in the past. Timber of voice? Attitude? I do not know, just my feeling.)
Am I a big brave person? No. 5’7″ / 200lbs. A bit pudgy but not scared of much.
If you read “Tribes”:http://www.ejectejecteject.com/archives/000129.html you can make the judgment. Am I:
Wolf?
Sheep?
Sheepdog?
I know where I identify myself but that does not count. What you say does, for yourself.
What are you? What do you identify with?
#1:
WE are NOT all like that.
Read “here”:http://www.mysanantonio.com/news/crime/stories/MYSA060608.KENS.robbery.suspect.45b1e81.html how citizens in Alamo Heights help nab a bank robber, and “here”:http://www.mysanantonio.com/news/metro/stories/MYSA060408.heroairman.kens.5f9efb36.html for a (not unusual) story of how an airman from Randolph AFB saved two kids from drowning. My city isn’t anywhere close to perfect, but we don’t ignore trouble.
A.L.,
Don’t forget that the Perfect is the Enemy of the Good. Stopping with emergency flashers would have been an immediate help, but getting the fire department involved gets your homeless fellow medical assistance and the attention of social services. I give you a B+.
I said, to a degree, Michael. Even when we fight it off and act, that phenomenon is real, and powerful. It is one of the least admirable traits of humanity, the assumption that someone else will take care of it, but it is a human trait.
Don’t get me wrong– I absolutely applaud A.L.’s instinct to act differently in the future, and his exhortation to others to do likewise. I already try to do better, having been in that unexpected situation myself. (I’m lucky– and so is the other guy– that the situation was ultimately harmless.)
I’ve also known someone who would repeatedly tear at herself and castigate herself for failures to be perfect, including KG effect situations… which was in turn painful to watch. Last night, I was projecting some of that on to A.L.’s post. Unfairly, I think, because in the light of day, A.L.’s words were “vaguely ashamed,” not moral self-castigation.
It’s very natural in a crowd for almost everyone to be inclined to freeze, expecting someone else to act, or for the “experts†to show up and take over. But society is better served if we all act more like we’re part of who’s in charge.
You might think about joining your local volunteer firefighting department, if you have one, or at least getting some emergency medical training. There are free or cheap courses all over the place. If you know a little more about what’s called for in an emergency, you won’t be as prone to freeze. A little training will mean that all kinds of automatic behavior will kick in. Also, it will feel more natural that you alone among the whole crowd are the one that’s supposed to act.
I’m queasy about intervening, too. Twice I’ve seen lives saved by a Heimlich maneuver while I was sitting there shocked and indecisive. It’s really hard to make yourself part of the action instead of a bystander, but it sure is a good habit to cultivate.
Texan, thanks. I do have advanced 1st aid training (ride motorcycles, so it seemed like a good idea) as well as some additional advanced trauma training; I am by nature an intervenor (less now than when I was younger and brasher), and I encourage everyone to do the same. I 100% agree that “…society is better served if we all act more like we’re part of who’s in charge.”
A.L.
Sorry for the duplicate post. Anyway, I was going to add that calling 911 was the most important thing, though blocking traffic for a short while with you car while waiting for help would have been nice, too. At least you wouldn’t have so many doubts gnawing at you now!
Armed Liberal:
I’m listening fully, with all the intent to do it I can muster.
But I can’t even say “I’ll do my best.” You never know when you’re going to do your best. These tests of our humanity are so unexpected. I want a guarantee I’ll do OK. But there are no guarantees.