There Goes My Hero

My friend, Deborah, called and said everyone in her condo complex was calling and asking who that man was that helped out over the weekend.

We had visited her at her condo on the second floor on a beautiful Saturday in Sausalito. We sat on her deck and chatted. I saw three elderly women get out of a car across the street and one tripped on the curb and fell. Her friends were nearby and I thought they would help. Minutes later I looked again and noticed that the woman was not getting up.

"Joseph," I said in my calm but you must act now voice, "Quick, go down there and check on that woman. I think it's an emergency." He ran down the stairs and I could see him talking to the woman and her friends. Other neighbors started gathering, too. A minute later, I saw him call 911 on his cell phone and the firemen came to help her to the hospital.

Joseph told us that she was 94 and lived on the top floor (duh?! What's up with that?) and must have tripped on the curb but didn't feel comfortable getting up. Her friends were trying to get her up and moving so he stopped them and called for help.

It was a good thing as Deborah told us- the woman had broken her hip in three places and was in ICU. Everyone wanted to know who that man was to thank him. That man was my dear husband.