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A cab ride I'll never forget (1999)

kentnerburn.com

51–60 of 174 posts

Re: A cab ride I'll never forget (1999)

#51
post #40

> it was possible to believe that I had been placed on earth for the sole purpose of providing her with that last ride. I suspect that a lot of people have a "heroism gene". In situations in which they're doing something selfless, and nothing matters other than helping the person before them who really needs it, there's an implicit "this is my purpose" or "this is what we do". I've wondered where that comes from, nat…

> I've wondered where that comes from, nature or nurture. And how common it is.

Altruism is deeply embedded in all men, because it raises our chances of securing a mate. Nurture probably has some degree of an effect, but it's one of the most basal instincts.

Re: A cab ride I'll never forget (1999)

#52

Reading this I got the impression that the person is a professional writer and fictionalized for emotional effect. Indeed, this is from an author. I'm all but immune to sentimentalism on the internet, and this story came across like a facebook chain letter.

I'm glad someone shares the sentiment.

"Facebook chain letter" is a good descriptor -- I was thinking "college application essay".

Re: A cab ride I'll never forget (1999)

#53
> I do not think that I have ever done anything in my life that was any more important.

My grandmother was in hospital on palatial care. We didn't know how long she would have, but it wasn't much.

I look an awful lot like my uncle due to having curly hair. I sat with her holding her hand for hours, just being with her and making sure she wasn't alone. She thought I was my uncle most of the time, but it didn't matter. (Very confused nurses when she called me her son.)

I still consider it one of the most important things I've done. Being there for someone in their final days is sad, but also a gift if they can be provided some comfort.

Re: A cab ride I'll never forget (1999)

#55
A few days in on my first trip to New York City, I had decided to visit Central Park. On the subway there, I (Korean-American) noticed out of the corner of my eye an elderly Asian woman who was sitting right next to me, keep staring at me then looking away multiple times. After a few minutes of this, I stared right back at her and she asked me, "Ni zhong guo ren?" (are you Chinese)? Luckily, I was almost done graduating from college and in my last few semesters took Chinese as an elective. I said to her in my crappy Chinese "Bu. Wo shi han guo ren. Ke shi, wo zhi dao zhong wen yi dian dian." (No, I'm Korean, but I know a little Chinese.) She said something I couldn't understand, and was pointing to some paper with an address on it. I asked her in Chinese where she was going and she kept pointing to the paper and I realized it was the bus terminal. She looked deathly scared and afraid as if she was going to get lost, so I quickly looked up the stop for the bus terminal and I told her to follow me. She's got two heavy pieces of luggage, and I'm carrying it for her all the way to the terminal, to ticketing. I do my best to translate for her, get her the tickets to her destination of Flushing, New York. I guide her to the right gate and as I'm about to leave, she stops me, thanks me, and hands me some ginseng drink and a Christian tract. I take the drink, and I hand her back the tract. She's like, "no, take it." I say to her, "No, it's ok. Ssang-di (God), I believe. I believe in Jesus." There's a bit of a glad shock on her face and says, "Ohhhhh." We part ways. The fear on her face disappeared and I could see she felt comfortable and relaxed as she waited at the gate.

It was just an awkward, but fun and memorable experience I'll never forget. I was a little annoyed early on cause there was only a few hours of daylight left and I wanted to spend as much time at Central Park, but it was just nice to help someone who seemed in desperate need of help. The funny thing is, this delay to Central Park actually timed it so that I got into a nice conversation with an older woman who sat on a bench next to me in the park.

Re: A cab ride I'll never forget (1999)

#56

I have been fortunate enough (privileged enough?) to feel comfortable picking up hitchhikers (or simply people walking along the road) over the years, and while most aren't particularly noteworthy, a few have been rough. One teenage boy had just been thrown out of his house, with nothing other than a torn shirt and shorts, by his drunk father. I drove him to his girlfriend's place. One desperate father had taken a bu…

Are you not scared of picking people up? I would love to help others, but I've always been worried that it could go poorly.

Re: A cab ride I'll never forget (1999)

#58
post #21

There are times when life gives us the opportunity to be that guy; just not exactly in the same way. Pay attention, it has and it will happen.

I take great care to stay vigilant for these opportunities. Recently, I found myself in a sadness for the lack of changes I was capable of making to our life’s systemic dysfunctions - be it natural or artificial - and found my time was much better spent improving the lives around me directly, individually or in small groups. I’ve long had the philosophy that the world has enough problems and that it’s not my place to…

This comment got me thinking.

One thing I enjoyed about early Covid was the ‘blitz spirit’ that occurred before it got all politicized.

I’d like to recapture that without the doom.

Re: A cab ride I'll never forget (1999)

#59
post #33

Earlier quoted context omitted.

Thanks. I searched HN for the link and nothing turned up. Should have searched for the title I guess. But the good thing is there are always some who missed it.. including me.

It was such a good story I was sure I'd read it before on here and well worth another read

Is there a movie about a similar story? We've talked about something vaguely resembling Kent's post with my mom last week and I don't think she has seen this in writing (certainly not on HN, ha).

Re: A cab ride I'll never forget (1999)

#60
post #39

Nearly 20 years ago my friend and I returned to his dorm building after a long long night out, only to discover we were locked out. With nothing better to do, we sat outside on the stoop and planned to chat the hours away until 6am when the doors would reopen. Before the dawn came, a man in his 80s almost walked past us. He stopped to ask for directions somewhere, maybe to a church. After our half-hearted attempt at…

This is another thing which cell phones have killed. Today odds are you would be trying to call or text to get in or just browsing on your phone with no time to listen to some old man’s stories .
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