Last year, a buddy and I were driving to the shooting range when we witnessed a terrible crash on the highway.
We stopped to help, of course. So did other people who were passing by. One man, confusing the steam billowing from the shattered radiator as evidence of fire, even managed to pull the door open from the twisted frame using brute strength alone. (We reached him in time, before he laid hands on the victim, and explained that it was a bad idea.)
Emergency services were called, and the cars passing by slowed down to gawk. Many people pulled over to the side of the road, asking if there was anything they could do. The response was so wide spread that there was a danger that the way would be blocked by the cars of amateur rescuers. I had to station myself next to the road, thanking everyone for their concern, but sending them on their way if they weren’t trained in rescue or medicine.
I was driving alone a few months later when another car accident occurred right in front of me, this time in a residential neighborhood. No injuries or deaths, although the damage to both vehicles was extensive.
I stopped to help, of course, and found the same situation. People driving by would ask if there was anything they could do. Those who lived near by not only phoned the authorities, but they came out of their homes and hustled down the street with first aid kits, bottled water, fire extinguishers and blankets. After determining that I didn’t need to administer first aid, my role became one of thanking the concerned and asking them to keep moving so the police and tow trucks could get through.
Are the people in Columbus, Ohio just more noble people than those living elsewhere? I find that to be impossible to believe.