Thank You for Being a Friend

Image originally uploaded by Rakka

With the cold weather of winter upon us (I know it's California, so it's not that cold, but still) I do not envy the people that don't have a place to call home. There is an elderly man that has been living in the parking structure at the train station for a couple weeks. He sleeps on the concrete in a little section on the very bottom level of the structure where cars can't park. Sometimes he's awake when I pull in to park and he's dancing around. Maybe he's getting his morning dose of exercise.

Last week we had a "storm" that brought some low temperatures and rain for several days. During that time when I arrived at the structure in the morning and left that night the homeless man was curled up in the same position. After a day and 1/2 I started to get worried. All he had to warm himself with were the clothes on his back and one gray blanket (hopefully a wool one). I started to worry that he had gotten too cold in the night and passed away.

When I got home I brought it up with my unruly boyfriend, who quickly suggested that I poke the man with a stick and yell loudly "Hey mister!!!!!!!!! Are you dead?" I know, I know, inappropriate. I would never do such a thing.

What I did decide to do was call the transit sheriff if the man hadn't changed position the next day. The next morning he was exactly how he was before. I got a funny feeling in my stomach. That would just be a terrible way to die. I called the sheriff when I got to work and asked that they just check on him. I was anxious to leave the structure that night, not knowing what I would find.

I never expected to find the man in the same spot, but this time laying propped up on his side drinking out of a large green bottle. I was thankful that he hadn't passed away. Perhaps he was just sleeping in longer because he was drinking heavily in order to stay warm and pass out into a deep sleep.

I'm just one human being looking out for another. Rose, you've got your Dorothy looking out for you.

Silence Is Golden, Or Is It?

Originally uploaded by TEB471959

Recently I remembered a trip on the train that was slightly traumatic. There was a whole group of women sitting towards the back of the caboose just chatting away. There must have been at least six different conversations going on at the same time. Everyone talking to everyone.

They talked like that for the majority of the ride, until a scream came from the caboose that was attached behind us. All of the women stopped talking and called out "stop the train! stop the train! A baby is stuck in the door!" My heart stopped. It seemed like everyone on the train stopped and tried to see what was going on. Someone alerted the driver through the intercom system, but because the people were so panicked he didn't really understand what was going on and replied "Once I leave the station I can't stop." But finally he understood what was going on stopped the train, got out and investigated.

It turned out that no baby was stuck in the door. What had happened was a little boy got on the train but his mother who was following behind didn't make it on. The little boy had screamed when he realized that his mother wasn't behind him. Lucky for him the train hadn't pulled completely away from the station and the driver opened the doors in order mother and child to be reunited.

As soon as everything was all right, the hen house continued to chatter, but this time talking about how they would never let their child get that far ahead of them when trains were around and how you have to keep your kids close.