Hometown's community bonds need to be strengthened
My parents moved to Ross over 30 years ago to raise a family, and have lived there since. They fell in love with its schools, the Post Office, Marin Art and Garden Center, Phoenix Lake and Ross Creek. Most of all, though, they loved that it promised to be a safe, supportive and strong community.
When I visited home on a recent weekend, my mom left for a meeting on Poplar Avenue, just past the Ross Common. Her stomach had ached all morning, and she hadn't eaten besides toast at breakfast. “I'll be back in an hour,” she reassured me.
During the meeting, my mom fought growing stomach pain and dizziness. Finally, when she could no longer stand it, she excused herself and fled the property. Sprinting to cross the street to her car on Poplar, she succumbed to the sickness, then was hit by a wave of vertigo. The next thing she knew, she was on the street, with a woman hovering above her, shaking and calling to her.
My mom had fainted (likely weak from a possible stomach bug). She struggled to her feet. Her eye was bloodied, face covered in dirt and hand scraped. Her finger quickly turned purple. Her entire left side throbbed from the impact.
The woman who helped her said she was driving by and saw her laying in the street behind my mom's car. What she told her next will forever haunt and hurt my mom: Before she could get to her, the woman saw three cars pass without stopping.
Still foggy and off-balance, my mom didn't fully process the magnitude until she got home. Even though she was laying on the street, unmoving and unconscious, at least three drivers kept going.
We are lucky and grateful for many things that happened that day. First, though my mom hadn't made it to the sidewalk, she fainted on the right side of the street. I can't bear to fathom what may have happened had she not made it that far. Second, her injuries were relatively minor. She has a swollen black eye, and bruises on her hand, elbow and hip. She discovered a large bump on the back of her head the following day. She has not fainted since. Finally, one generous, selfless woman did stop. A total stranger saw something was wrong, pulled over to assist my mom, got her water, assessed her injuries and made sure she got home safely.
We are bewildered and discouraged by the inhumane actions of those who drove past, as if she were roadkill. How much longer would she have lain there, unconscious on the street, had this woman not stopped? How many other people would have continued driving, unfazed by seeing a woman passed out, facedown on the street?
My mother is Ross Councilmember Julie McMillan. It's true that she has done so much for her community, but none of that matters in this situation. I would hope that all of us can expect and receive immediate help when a clear health emergency happens in front of our neighbors.
This incident is greatly shaped by the responses from members of our community. The generosity of the woman who pulled over, contrasted against the heartless, numb cruelty of those who may have seen her but drove on.
It's one thing to respect people's privacy, and not want to get involved in another's business. It's another thing entirely to sail by a person, who is obviously unwell and in danger, without so much as batting an eye.
It's hard to go out of our way to help someone else, especially when no one is asking, awarding or watching. But it's also our duty to look out for and protect one another in any community. I write this to shed light on a stranger's empathy; it does not go unrecognized or unappreciated by my mom and our family. I also write this as a cautionary reminder for all of us to get out of auto-pilot, look beyond our windshields and actually see each other, even when it may be inconvenient. I write this so we think about what we'd do if we ever see a person on the street, unmoving and unconscious.