I'm Not Hercules

Monday 1:30 p.m. at an intersection. This particular intersection has a total of 7 left turn lanes, 8 lanes for thru-traffic, plus each direction has a right turn lane. It is a major intersection.

I was the first car in an outside left turn lane and my light was red. There was a car in the middle of the intersection. The car wasn't moving and was positioned in such a way that traffic could not pass. Right turns could be made and one southbound lane was passing.

Horns started. I rolled down the window and heard the driver trying to start the engine. I got out of my car, approached the stranded driver and asked what the problem was.
"I ran out of gas. I called the Auto Club," the older man said. By older, I mean older than my parents (who are still young).

"Well, we gotta get you out of the intersection. We'll have to push you out of the way." I said.
I was far enough from the car that we had to raise our voices. And there were lots of cars around. Many drivers had windows open on their vehicles.

Again, louder, I said, "We'll have to push the car out of the way." I waved to a couple drivers to encourage them to help. One was on the phone; another had to adjust something on the dash. All the while, more cars lined up and waited for the man's Oldsmobile to get out of the way.

Now, I'm no Hercules. I'm not Goliath. I'm not feeble, but I know that I do not look like I can single-handedly move this man's car across 3 lanes of roadway. I could not interest anyone in helping. Finally, four cars behind mine, a door opened. The driver got out and came to help.

We did it. Me and this other guy. While the others watched. Once the Olds was out of the way, we shook hands and went back to our own vehicles.

I do not understand how any of those other drivers could watch this situation, assess it and then make a conscious effort to not help. Sad, isn't it?

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