Archive

Posts Tagged ‘generosity’

Random acts of kindness part 1

July 14, 2010 3 comments

I’m a great believer in the fundamental goodness of most people, under most circumstances. I know the more inflammatory sectors of the media will sell zillions more copies when covering stories about people taking part in seemingly amoral acts, but I for one am glad that we do get so worried about them, because that simple reaction means that they remain outside the imagination of most people and therefore are not accepted as the norm.

I am also a humanist, and think that having a moral compass does not require the input of any imaginary being to reward or punish, but that’s another story entirely. I have had many experiences of people going beyond any call of duty or pity to help me out, of which two bear the telling.

The first was in the summer of 1991. I was in my summer break from university, and for some unknown reason decided that selling books door-to-door, commission only in the States was a good way of passing the time. There were plenty of adventures during that summer in Michigan, but this particular story starts on my journey home, which involved a 24 hour+ train journey from Jackson, Michigan to Newark, New Jersey, via Detroit, Toledo, and eventually New York City. I was skint (as seemed par for the course during uni, and for that matter for the next 6 years of working), so had bought my train ticket, but had around $20 left to my name, to last me for the entire journey, and get me from Manhattan to Newark airport, and give me walking around money until I got to Caroline’s student house in Hounslow (handy for Heathrow, phew).

Throughout my time in the States that summer I had been either awed or bemused by the American’s famous welcoming nature, and the extra special treatment for the Brits. The further from the coasts you went, the more surprised, hospitable and truly interested people were to find you were from England. It’s arrogant to jump on the anti-American bandwagon and sneer that the fascination stems from the fact that few Americans travel abroad – given the vast size and geographical diversity of the US compared to any single country within Europe; I’m pretty sure that if we didn’t need a passport to travel within Europe the number of British citizens holding passports would fall from the current 80% to nearer the American’s 30%. Nevertheless, I did have to deal with various nonsense questions like “How do you speak such good English?” and “So, is Disney World Paris in England?”, so there were unflattering moments of my smug self satisfaction amongst the general welcome from everyone else.

On this occasion the lady I sat next to for the majority of the train journey was gratifyingly interested in everything I had to say, an unashamed Anglophile and even understood British English slang (must have picked it up from Monty Python, as the only English things on the telly at the time seemed to be either our favourite Oxbridge boys and Benny Hill). During the journey we swapped life stories and she told me about her teenage boys, and her husband with a huge postcard collection, who was meeting her at New York to drive her to their upstate home.

During the journey it became obvious to her that I was little prepared for the logistics of getting from Manhattan to Newark, on the now considerably less than $20 that I had on me. Now it seems there’s a spanking new monorail that would get me there no problem, but at the time it seemed like the public transport options were limited, and so I just threw in the thought that “Maybe I’d hitch”. The poor woman  practically hyperventilated at this and after shooing me along the platform when we finally arrived, whispered in her husbands’s ear, then turned round and gave me $50 for a cab, with a thanks for being good company on the journey, and a request for a postcard addressed to her husband when I got back to London. She didn’t even hang around for long enough for me to express my immense thanks, but I still wonder now what horrible alternative fate she saved me from, in my moment of madness.

I sent them about 25 postcards, by the way, from every new city I went to in the British Isles for the next two years. I hope it put a smile on their faces like they did on  mine.