Dear Editor,
I met a hero Sunday evening. He wore no superhero cape, just long shorts and a T-shirt.
I learnt that he sold ackees as his day-to-day hustle.
On this day, he had rescued a young boy — no more than nine or 10 years old — and a senior gentleman who had what seemed like a stroke.
My hero had assumed responsibility for the young boy who needed help to get home. The plan was to use the sales from the ackees to pay the passage home for his new young friend. I provided the money for passage for both, but had no interest in the ackees.
Embarrassingly I had seen the senior gentleman earlier struggling to sit on the sidewalk and assumed he was too drunk to keep going on his way home. My hero, who is younger than I am, at least mid-20s — was far more compassionate and asked the gentleman if he needed assistance — something I never even thought of doing.
The senior gentleman’s memory was jumbled as he desperately riffled through his pockets for a number to call his daughter, whose name he gave as Marcia. His personal mobile phone needed charging as well. My hero was determined to see him to safety, but the senior was a long way from home. He said he was from Dam Head. The senior gentleman produced numbers on a blue strip of paper, which I called, but the responses were, “Don’t know him!”
The police were eventually called and two stalwart young policemen escorted the senior gentleman to the hospital. My hero had left him in my care, having gone by this time to ensure his young friend had boarded a bus to safety.
I suspect I’m excited over nothing, but these encounters reaffirm my faith in the young people of Jamaica. I’m hopeful that there are many more compassionate young people in Jamaica.
Long live my hero from Central Village.
K T
Greendale
Spanish Town
olodypo@yahoo.com
I met a hero Sunday evening. He wore no superhero cape, just long shorts and a T-shirt.
I learnt that he sold ackees as his day-to-day hustle.
On this day, he had rescued a young boy — no more than nine or 10 years old — and a senior gentleman who had what seemed like a stroke.
My hero had assumed responsibility for the young boy who needed help to get home. The plan was to use the sales from the ackees to pay the passage home for his new young friend. I provided the money for passage for both, but had no interest in the ackees.
Embarrassingly I had seen the senior gentleman earlier struggling to sit on the sidewalk and assumed he was too drunk to keep going on his way home. My hero, who is younger than I am, at least mid-20s — was far more compassionate and asked the gentleman if he needed assistance — something I never even thought of doing.
The senior gentleman’s memory was jumbled as he desperately riffled through his pockets for a number to call his daughter, whose name he gave as Marcia. His personal mobile phone needed charging as well. My hero was determined to see him to safety, but the senior was a long way from home. He said he was from Dam Head. The senior gentleman produced numbers on a blue strip of paper, which I called, but the responses were, “Don’t know him!”
The police were eventually called and two stalwart young policemen escorted the senior gentleman to the hospital. My hero had left him in my care, having gone by this time to ensure his young friend had boarded a bus to safety.
I suspect I’m excited over nothing, but these encounters reaffirm my faith in the young people of Jamaica. I’m hopeful that there are many more compassionate young people in Jamaica.
Long live my hero from Central Village.
K T
Greendale
Spanish Town
olodypo@yahoo.com