Going By the Chapel...

St. George's Chapel in Harbeson, DE - I pass it on my
way to and from work.

On my way home from school yesterday afternoon, I had a strange encounter. As I was passing St. George's Chapel on Beaver Dam Road, I saw a young man sprawled on the brick walkway that leads into the graveyard on the Chapel's west side. Now, I don't mean he was stretched out on the ground, relaxing and getting some sun - no, he looked like he fallen over from being shot in a drive-by and was waiting for the coroner to show up and draw a chalk line around his body. So, needless to say, the image stuck out to me amidst the surrounding greenery and brick. But, before I could fully realize what I had seen, I had driven maybe 200 yards past him. As quick as I could, I turned around and headed back to where he lay.

When I got back to him, I rolled down the passenger-side window and called out to him, asking if he was alright. He popped up, looking dazed and disoriented. He said he had been out walking for two hours and asked if I had any water. I gave him the bottle of water I had and he began chugging it. Before I could ask him if he needed any help, he said a buddy of his was on the way to pick him up. And then the friend pulled up behind me.

The young man gave me back the bottled water, thanked me, and got into his friend's car and drove off. As they pulled around me, he had his friend beep the horn while he waved. I turned back around and headed towards home.

As I got on my way, I couldn't help but wonder what was going on for that young man that would leave him stranded and nearly passed out on the side of the road. Two hours out in the heat was all it took to make him pass out? I hardly think so. Maybe if he was 80-years-old. So, there must have been more to that story. And, yes, I did consider that maybe it was some sort of con or set up, especially when his friend pulled up so suddenly, but I had an overall sense that I wasn't in any danger. And, if that was the intent, something made them change their minds about robbing me. Maybe my hulking physique? My Clint-Eastwood-like intimidation factor?

Regardless, I wouldn't have wanted that to stop me from attempting to help him. As ludicrous as this may sound, I'd rather get robbed knowing I was trying to the right thing than go home and hear on the news how that person died because no one intervened to help.

There isn't much more to the story than that. Just that I am now left with a strong curiosity as to what was going on with that young man and whether or not he finally got the help he needed. I hope I was able to help in some small way at least.