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The Cab Ride
robsguns
Member Posts: 4,581 ✭✭
>THE CAB RIDE
>> >
>> > Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living.
>> > When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a
>> > single light in a ground floor window. Under these
>>circumstances, many
>> > drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive
>>away.
>> > But, I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on
>>taxis as
>>their
>> > only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of
>>danger, I
>>always
>> >
>> > went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my
>assistance,
>>I
>> >
>> > reasoned to myself.
>> >
>> > So I walked to the door and knocked. "Just a minute", answered a
>>frail,
>> > elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the
>>floor.
>>After
>> > a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80's stood
>>before
>me.
>> > She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil
>>pinned on
>it,
>> > like somebody out of a 1940s movie.
>> >
>> > By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as
>>if no
>one
>> > had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with
>>sheets.
>>There
>> > were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the
>>counters.
>>In
>> > the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.
>> >
>> > "Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said. I took the
>> > suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.
>> >
>> > She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept
>>thanking
>me
>> > for my kindness. "It's nothing", I told her. "I just try to
>>treat my
>> > passengers the way I would want my mother treated".
>> > "Oh, you're such a good boy", she said.
>> >
>> > When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked,
>>"Could you
>>drive
>> >
>> > through downtown?"
>> > "It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly.
>> > "Oh, I don't mind," she said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to
>> > a hospice".
>> >
>> > I looked in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were glistening.
>> > "I don't have any family left," she continued. "The doctor says
>> > I don't have very long."
>> >
>> > I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. "What route would
>>you
>like
>>me
>> >
>> > to take?" I asked.
>> >
>> > For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me
>>the
>> > building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We
>>drove
>>through
>> >
>> > the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they
>>were
>> > newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse
>>that had
>> > once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.
>> >
>> > Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building
>>or
>corner
>> > and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.
>> >
>> > As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly
>> > said, "I'm tired. Let's go now."
>> >
>> > We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a
>> > low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway
>>that
>passed
>> > under a portico.
>> >
>> > Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They
>>were
>> > solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have
>>been
>> > expecting her.
>> >
>> > I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The
>>woman
>was
>> > already seated in a wheelchair. "How much do I owe you?" she
>>asked,
>>reaching
>> >
>> > into her purse.
>> > "Nothing," I said.
>> >
>> > "You have to make a living," she answered.
>> >
>> > "There are other passengers," I responded.
>> > Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held
>> > onto me tightly.
>> >
>> > "You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said. "Thank
>>you."
>> >
>> > I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light.
>> > Behind me, a door shut.
>> > It was the sound of the closing of a life.
>> >
>> > I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove
>> > aimlessly, lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could
>>hardly
>talk.
>> > What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was
>>impatient
>to
>> > end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had
>>honked
>once,
>> > then driven away?
>> >
>> > On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more
>> > important in my life. We're conditioned to think that our lives
>>revolve
>> > around great moments. But great moments often catch us
>unaware-beautifully
>> > wrapped in what others may consider a small one.
>> >
>> > PEOPLE MAY NOT REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT 'YOU DID, OR WHAT YOU SAID,
>> > ~BUT ~
>> > THEY WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER HOW YOU MADE THEM FEEL.
>> > Pass this on to all your friends.
>> > You won't get any big surprise in 10 days if you send it to ten
>> > people.
>> > But, you might help make the world a little kinder and more
>> > compassionate by sending it on.
>> > Thank you, my friend....
>
SSgt Ryan E. Roberts, USMC
>> >
>> > Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living.
>> > When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a
>> > single light in a ground floor window. Under these
>>circumstances, many
>> > drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive
>>away.
>> > But, I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on
>>taxis as
>>their
>> > only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of
>>danger, I
>>always
>> >
>> > went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my
>assistance,
>>I
>> >
>> > reasoned to myself.
>> >
>> > So I walked to the door and knocked. "Just a minute", answered a
>>frail,
>> > elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the
>>floor.
>>After
>> > a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80's stood
>>before
>me.
>> > She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil
>>pinned on
>it,
>> > like somebody out of a 1940s movie.
>> >
>> > By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as
>>if no
>one
>> > had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with
>>sheets.
>>There
>> > were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the
>>counters.
>>In
>> > the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.
>> >
>> > "Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said. I took the
>> > suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.
>> >
>> > She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept
>>thanking
>me
>> > for my kindness. "It's nothing", I told her. "I just try to
>>treat my
>> > passengers the way I would want my mother treated".
>> > "Oh, you're such a good boy", she said.
>> >
>> > When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked,
>>"Could you
>>drive
>> >
>> > through downtown?"
>> > "It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly.
>> > "Oh, I don't mind," she said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to
>> > a hospice".
>> >
>> > I looked in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were glistening.
>> > "I don't have any family left," she continued. "The doctor says
>> > I don't have very long."
>> >
>> > I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. "What route would
>>you
>like
>>me
>> >
>> > to take?" I asked.
>> >
>> > For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me
>>the
>> > building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We
>>drove
>>through
>> >
>> > the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they
>>were
>> > newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse
>>that had
>> > once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.
>> >
>> > Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building
>>or
>corner
>> > and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.
>> >
>> > As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly
>> > said, "I'm tired. Let's go now."
>> >
>> > We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a
>> > low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway
>>that
>passed
>> > under a portico.
>> >
>> > Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They
>>were
>> > solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have
>>been
>> > expecting her.
>> >
>> > I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The
>>woman
>was
>> > already seated in a wheelchair. "How much do I owe you?" she
>>asked,
>>reaching
>> >
>> > into her purse.
>> > "Nothing," I said.
>> >
>> > "You have to make a living," she answered.
>> >
>> > "There are other passengers," I responded.
>> > Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held
>> > onto me tightly.
>> >
>> > "You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said. "Thank
>>you."
>> >
>> > I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light.
>> > Behind me, a door shut.
>> > It was the sound of the closing of a life.
>> >
>> > I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove
>> > aimlessly, lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could
>>hardly
>talk.
>> > What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was
>>impatient
>to
>> > end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had
>>honked
>once,
>> > then driven away?
>> >
>> > On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more
>> > important in my life. We're conditioned to think that our lives
>>revolve
>> > around great moments. But great moments often catch us
>unaware-beautifully
>> > wrapped in what others may consider a small one.
>> >
>> > PEOPLE MAY NOT REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT 'YOU DID, OR WHAT YOU SAID,
>> > ~BUT ~
>> > THEY WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER HOW YOU MADE THEM FEEL.
>> > Pass this on to all your friends.
>> > You won't get any big surprise in 10 days if you send it to ten
>> > people.
>> > But, you might help make the world a little kinder and more
>> > compassionate by sending it on.
>> > Thank you, my friend....
>
SSgt Ryan E. Roberts, USMC
Comments
If I knew then, what I know now.
That was a good post.
If I'm wrong please correct me, I won't be offended.
The sound of a 12 gauge pump clears a house fatser than Rosie O eats a Big Mac !
rodney colson
A great rifle with a junk scope,....is junk.
Ireton Sports Alaska
Have always found going out of my way and assisting others very rewarding.
B - BreatheR - RelaxA - AimS - SightS - Squeeze
Guns only have two enemies: Rust and Liberals....
Best!!
Rugster
Oh, dont think I'm that great a person, that was an email I received. Some great guy out there has his reward awaiting him, I just have PCS orders.
SSgt Ryan E. Roberts, USMC