Last week, a homeless man, Hugo Alfredo Tale-Yax, intervened to stop a physical altercation between a man and a woman in Queens.  A few hours later, he was found dead on the sidewalk as a victim of multiple stab wounds.  According to surveillance video, the man collapsed on the street a couple hours before emergency personnel were summoned to the scene.  In the interim, 25 people passed by him without offering assistance or even checking to see how he was doing.

This being NYC, most people are seemingly nonplussed by the commitment of murder.  Rather, it is the apparent disregard for the plight of a man lying face down on the sidewalk (as he might have slowly been dying) that is causing the greatest concern for our humanity.  Why did no one offer to help? Most of the press coverage has characterized Mr. Tale-Yax’s murder as the “death of a good Samaritan,” based on his role in assisting the woman being assaulted earlier in the evening.

For the New York Times account of the story, click here:  Good Samaritan

For the New York Post story (and surveillance video), click here:  Good Samaritan

In considering this characterization, I reflected on the biblical story of the Good Samaritan.  Found in the Gospel of Luke, the original parable describes the actions of a man (i.e., the good Samaritan) who showed mercy for someone who he found hurt by the side of the road.  He bandaged the wounded man and paid for him to receive lodging and care after he personally escorted him to a local inn.  Others had passed-by this same man, and offered no assistance.  Barring any allegorical interpretations, the parable is meant to illustrate that everyone is deserving of our compassion, just as we bestow it upon ourselves (i.e., “Love they neighbor like thyself”).

So, in considering what happened last week, “the death of a good Samaritan” applies not only to Mr. Tale-Yax, but also to the 2 dozen people who passed by without demonstrating any concern or compassion.  What has become of us that we no longer offer help to someone in need?  Are we too overwhelmed?  Uncaring?  Too distracted?  Too scared?  What action–even something small–can we take in such circumstances? What would you have done?  What will you do next time?  How would you want someone to respond if you were in distress?

On one of those bitterly cold Sunday afternoons that NYC has endured over the last month, I decide to get a cup of something hot at the nearest coffee shop. I manage to find a window seat and set myself down to a serious half hour of people watching. People are rushing about, all trying to outrun the frigid temperatures. There are all sorts of get ups worn by these intrepid New York walkers, Parkas, long goats, layers and layers of sweaters and scarves, every variety of boot and shoe imaginable, gloves, mittens, and a few brave hat-less souls.

As I look out upon the “great parade.” a relatively young man asks if he could take the empty seat at my table ( at 61 anyone under 40 appears virtually teenage to me). I nod a “yes.” He proceeds to take out his cholesterol doused donut and a giant coffee. I envy his lack of dietary concerns. Both of us sit watching the passing throngs, enveloped in the warmth of the shop. A woman appears on the street loaded down with 2 shopping bags, a box, and a paper bag whose handle suddenly gives way. The contents of this container drops onto the sidewalk. Frantic, she tries to get the stuff back into the original bag and then put that into one of the other shopping bags. Nothing works. Finally, my tablemate said, “she needs some help.” He throws on his coat and goes out to help her. He starts fumbling with all the bags and again one of the handles breaks. Miraculously, a woman comes running up with two large plastic bags and helps them re-package the whole mess! In the blink of an eye, this good Samaritan vanishes. The woman with the bags leaves and the guy comes back to my table. He winks and says, “all in a day’s work.”

I left the shop feeling warmed not only by the heat of the store but more importantly by the acts of helpfulness and generosity that I was a witness to. When I am feeling a bit down and I forget that there is more to the city than pushy people, rude comments, and just “too much” of everything, I coax myself to be mindful of the lady with the bags and all the people who set about helping her.