I stumbled across a man about my age lying bleeding in the alley with his bicycle on the ground a few feet away. His eyeglasses scattered in smithereens on the ground. A young man approached me looking distraught and asked if I would mind watching the victim, his father, while he went to get his car so he could take him to the ER at the hospital. I agreed.
First of all this was unnerving to see a man around my age who had obviously been biking lying on the ground a bloody mess. The words, there but for the grace of god … rolled through my mind. I ride my bike in this same place every day of my life.
I inventoried his condition. A gash about 1-1/2 inches above his eye bleeding that was going to need at least a dozen stitches. Obviously, his face had hit the alley. Both hands bloody and dirty with pieces of broken glass and other debris obvious. His elbow was also bleeding. I was dying to ask how it happened, but didn’t want to disturb him as he lay there in obvious pain.
It wasn’t long before his son came and helped him into the car. They locked up the bike on a nearby rail. Continue reading