It was a very cold day in Seoul. 20 degrees Fahrenheit. Colder North wind blowing strong.
I was crossing a very busy eight lane street at the intersection with another very busy eight lane, fast highway in the middle of downtown Seoul's Gangnam area.
I got halfway across to the safe pedestrian island, when I heard a crashing sound, a collision of two motor scooters at the intersection. One of the bikers emerged safe and unshaken and looked back, then roared away. I hestiated to look but did right back at the scene and saw the other biker skidding across the pavement, bike going one way on its side, the human biker like a log just rolling over and over on the pavement in deep, roaring traffic. I honestly thought he was gone. No movement, cars rushing past him on both sides. He was limp, lying in the middle of one of Seoul's busiest crossings on a very cold, cold day.
No one stopped, no pedestrian lept forward to help, no one. Cars just kept whizzing by.
I was still at the halfway point on a safe island just watching. He started to move, then rolled over, then got up, blood on his forehead. He managed to grab the scooter and walk it to the island, staggering all the way. It was now right before me. I could shake his hand it was now too close to just walk on by. Then he collapsed right down at my feet. I had wanted to pull him out of traffic, but now there was no choice....I had to help. I asked him, "Can I help you? How can I help you, Are you alright?" Stupid questions.
He waved me off...."no Englishe", he said....he was in clear pain lying there.
Then another biker saw this and stopped and talked him to his feet. He too cared. He was the only other one. He soon roared off into the cold day. The wounded man was staggering but on his feet. He waved me off again from any help. This guy was young, in his late 20's I guess, handsome, as big as an NFL player, yet he almost was killed this day.
He would make it through this. I made sure he got to the other side, then I had to be gone. Nothing more to do, nothing more to help, I had done what I had to do.
Cold days like this and scenes like this at our feet remind us to go home and hug the ones we love and remember that life is a breath in the cold air, a split second from death, yet we somehow make it. I will never see this man again, gone into the crowds of millions. Yet I will see his face as long as I live.
Cold days we do all we can. Sometimes it is enough, sometimes not. This day, was a good day, all things considered. For him and also for me....
I was crossing a very busy eight lane street at the intersection with another very busy eight lane, fast highway in the middle of downtown Seoul's Gangnam area.
I got halfway across to the safe pedestrian island, when I heard a crashing sound, a collision of two motor scooters at the intersection. One of the bikers emerged safe and unshaken and looked back, then roared away. I hestiated to look but did right back at the scene and saw the other biker skidding across the pavement, bike going one way on its side, the human biker like a log just rolling over and over on the pavement in deep, roaring traffic. I honestly thought he was gone. No movement, cars rushing past him on both sides. He was limp, lying in the middle of one of Seoul's busiest crossings on a very cold, cold day.
No one stopped, no pedestrian lept forward to help, no one. Cars just kept whizzing by.
I was still at the halfway point on a safe island just watching. He started to move, then rolled over, then got up, blood on his forehead. He managed to grab the scooter and walk it to the island, staggering all the way. It was now right before me. I could shake his hand it was now too close to just walk on by. Then he collapsed right down at my feet. I had wanted to pull him out of traffic, but now there was no choice....I had to help. I asked him, "Can I help you? How can I help you, Are you alright?" Stupid questions.
He waved me off...."no Englishe", he said....he was in clear pain lying there.
Then another biker saw this and stopped and talked him to his feet. He too cared. He was the only other one. He soon roared off into the cold day. The wounded man was staggering but on his feet. He waved me off again from any help. This guy was young, in his late 20's I guess, handsome, as big as an NFL player, yet he almost was killed this day.
He would make it through this. I made sure he got to the other side, then I had to be gone. Nothing more to do, nothing more to help, I had done what I had to do.
Cold days like this and scenes like this at our feet remind us to go home and hug the ones we love and remember that life is a breath in the cold air, a split second from death, yet we somehow make it. I will never see this man again, gone into the crowds of millions. Yet I will see his face as long as I live.
Cold days we do all we can. Sometimes it is enough, sometimes not. This day, was a good day, all things considered. For him and also for me....
