Every day we are bombarded with experiences or news of negative and often violent behaviors of human beings as individuals, groups or countries. It is refreshing to see a person or persons do a good deed, solicited or unsolicited. Even broadcasting companies are aware of the need for humans to be uplifted and will squeeze in a positive story after having assaulted viewers with stories of crime, natural disasters and wars. The other week one TV station showed a grizzly bear (a meat-eater) stop eating its zoo meal in order to pull a floundering bird from a nearby pond. Human onlookers said they expected the bear to make a meal of the bird, but it did not. It went back to its zoo meal, not taking advantage of a weak and incapacitated animal (at least not this time). Humans, take note.
A couple of weeks ago, I was just starting down the stairs at the Davis Street el station on the up side because a young man – he’ll be called “Number Two” – was coming up the stairs on the down side (bet you were waiting with bated breath to know that). Another young man – “Number One” – stood below him close to the bottom of the stairs. Number One stopped, picked up something, then turned toward the top of the stairs yelling, “Hey, mister!”
I, being closer to Number Two, turned and yelled to Number Two in a loud, demanding voice, “Mister!”
Number Two turned around, and I pointed to Number One, letting Two know that One was trying to get his attention. Number One man held something up in the air and yelled, “I think you dropped this!”
Number Two felt his back pocket and said, “I thought I heard something drop.” He thanked Number One profusely as he rushed down the stairs to retrieve what he had dropped. He had dropped a wad of money.
I had continued down the stairs during this interchange, and I caught up with Number One as we neared the turnstiles.
“Wow,” I said. “You really made my day by doing such a kind deed.”
“And you made my day by telling me that,” Number One replied.
We walked out of the station together, and I said, “What’s your first name? I’d like to write about you.”
“Corey,” he answered.
“‘C-O-R-E-Y?’” I asked.
“Yes,” he said. “You even included the E!”
As we parted I said, “Take care, Corey. Look for the story about you in the next RoundTable, week after next on Thursday.”
I have no idea whether Corey will see this story dedicated to him, but I certainly want to remind others that the Corey Factor is still out there. Thank goodness.