by Laura Sosnowski
Illinois, USA
I was 19 in the mid-1970s, working in the Chicago loop and riding the train every day from the suburbs to the historic underground Union Station. Among historic pillars towering toward decorated ceilings, we trudged past fast food restaurants, neon advertisements, and shoeshine stands. High-powered professionals, millionaires, secretaries, and mail clerks turned the corner toward the worn cement staircase that led us, blinking, into the outside light.
En masse, crossed the river on the bridge and scattered to our jobs in the skyscrapers that stood behind street musicians and beggars. We were close to the strangers walking with us; there was no such thing as personal space. One held on tightly to purses and other valuables.
One sunny day, the crowd coming out of the train station was sparse; perhaps it was a holiday. As I crossed the bridge, there were only two people ahead of me, a woman and a man. The woman was dressed professionally, on her way to work. The man was dressed in old dirty clothes. He carried a large piece of cardboard, like an unfolded, flattened box, stretched out in front of him. I wondered what it was and why he carried it that way.
With so few people crossing the bridge, I also wondered why he was walking so close to the woman. Maybe he didn’t notice there was more space for walking today. Maybe he was trying to pass her and couldn’t because of his cardboard. Used to crowds, the woman probably didn’t think much of it. He would walk up close to her, fall back just a bit, then walk up close again.
Suddenly, from across the street a man in a business suit yelled out, “Hey, lady! That guy just stole your wallet!”
He started running toward them, dodging cars, as the man with the cardboard bolted away. She stopped and turned to check her purse. Hearing the yell, another man ahead of us, also in professional dress, jumped into action and headed off the escaping thief.
The two men tackled the thief to the ground, retrieved the wallet, brushed themselves off, thanked each other, and returned the woman’s wallet. Stunned, she merely thanked them.
On the outside, everyone continued on their way as if nothing had happened. On the inside, I bet I wasn’t the only person permanently impacted by the speed and kindness of those two strangers in the city. I saw them ignore personal risk to help someone. I was just a young observer in training for a life of being of whatever use I can be to others. For their inspiring example, I’m still grateful to them both.
Podcast: Play in new window | Download (Duration: 4:03 — 3.8MB)
I too saw a person come to the aid of a friend whose wallet was lifted in Chicago. It was my first time there and I have always thought of it as a great human city since then.