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dialed 911 today

the journal of Michael Werneburg

twenty-seven years and one million words

On my way to the bank, today, I saw a sudden commotion at Yonge St + St. Clair. There was a person lying face down in the cross-walk, and a couple of other people ran out to help. I called 911.

I wrangled with the 911 dispatch people while others tended to the elderly woman who was still lying face down and unmoving. I don't know why it is that the dispatch people always seem so aggrieved when I call (not that I make a habit of it).

In no time, the police were there, helping some others lift the bleeding woman from the street. It seems she'd fallen and had opened up her face on the pavement. When it seemed that everything was going as well as could be expected, I gave one of the officers my name and phone number, and told the woman to be well, and kept my appointment.

Shortly after I got back home, I had a call from the police. They were calling about the woman's wallet. Someone had taken it from the purse while she lay there on the street, bleeding.

My view of humanity remains unshakably jaundiced.