Me and my baby were having dinner last week at Dressel’s, in the Central West End, when a white man came in soaked from the rain.
You could tell by the way he talked and walked that he suffered from some disability.
He asked to use the phone, and a brother just getting off his shift helped him. You could tell by the call that the man was not finding a ride.
The brother goes and comes back with a dry Dressel’s T-shirt and says, “You can return this whenever.”
Then he goes out to his own car and gets the man his own umbrella.
“You’re so kind,” the disabled white man says, sounding on the verge of tears.
“The rain is still coming down pretty hard,” the brother, says before finally insisting that he give the man a ride to the bus stop.
Little acts of kindness like that won’t save the world or heal our city.
Or, will they?