A behavior lesson from a couple of ‘keepers’ 

There are a few facts I have to present as a preface to this week’s column. The first is that blizzards and snowstorms, at least in Fall River, can bring out the best and the worst in people. 

The second is that I am not a patient person with those people whose nasty or nastier side shines forth during blizzard and snowstorm aftermaths.

Over the last few weeks, blizzard Juno dumped two feet of snow on “The Riv,” and Linus, a snowstorm, piled on an additional six inches of snow and ice.

Not that the timing of a snowstorm can ever be good, but Juno was as badly timed a nuisance for me as possible.

The day the nor’easter arrived was a day I had scheduled the fine folks at My Brother’s Keeper in Dartmouth to pick up some furniture my brother and I were donating.

We rescheduled the pickup for two days later.

Now, for those of you who have never traveled through the streets of Fall River after a snowfall, it should be known it’s not a pleasant journey. The streets are narrow with little place to pile plowed snow.

Cars can usually park on both sides of the street, but that’s cut in half in a storm.

On the day MBK arrived to pick up the furniture from a second-floor apartment, there was no place to park. None. 

We hoped to park across the street from the apartment in a cleared driveway for a half an hour or so to get the job done.

In the MBK truck were Rachel and Dave, two absolutely delightful young people. Rachel was driving. As soon as I directed her into the driveway, she was greeted by wildly waving arms in the first floor tenement window prohibiting her from parking there. (It should be noted that the entire time the move took place, no one ever used that space.)

I shot the windmill-like character in the window an evil glance.

While we discussed our next move, a car directly behind the truck began to yell at us to move. Not having patience as mentioned previously, I engaged in a battle of words with the aggravated driver. I’m not proud of that, but sometimes my emotions get the best of me. My logic was sometimes you have to speak the language of the natives.

Meanwhile Rachel and Dave, and my brother, kept cooler heads and kept quiet, figuring out our next plan of attack.

Rachel parked the truck about half a block away, and the four of us moved the furniture, some heavy and awkward, and others simple, down the city street, through snow, ice and slush.

When all was said and done (said by me and done by Rachel, Dave and my bro), the truck got stuck. The four of us spent the next half-hour to 45 minutes digging and pushing until the truck was free. With a hug and a handshake, Rachel and Dave were off, with a plea from me not to mention the things I said and did!

The two young people from My Brother’s Keeper were hard-working, kind, considerate and exemplified Christianity. I was very impressed with them and ashamed of my hot-headedness.

Later in the day and week, I had neighbors and family who lent a helping hand and shovel to help me get my two cars out from down under. After that, we got together and helped out another neighbor. That made me feel better about others and myself. The best and the worst of people.

I owe thanks to Rachel and Dave from My Brother’s Keeper, not only for the time and hard work they selflessly give to help those in need, but also for not only walking the walk, but talking the talk — a lesson I should heed.


© 2019 The Anchor and Anchor Publishing    †    Fall River, Massachusetts