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The Cab Driver
Posted: 22 August 2008 2:07 PM
Subject: The Cab Driver

Epic contributor

Posts: 1551
Location: Mörsdorf in the Hunsrück, Germany

The Cab Driver

Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living.  It was a cowboy's life, a life for someone who wanted no boss.  What I didn't realize was that it was also a ministry.  Because I drove the night shift, my cab became a
moving confessional.  Passengers climbed in, sat behind me in total anonymity, and told me about their lives.  I encountered people whose lives amazed me, ennobled me, made me laugh and weep.  But none touched me more than a woman I picked up late one August night.

I was responding to a call from a small brick apartment building in a quiet part of town.  I assumed I was being sent to pick up some partiers, or someone who had just had a fight with a lover, or a worker heading to an early shift at some factory for the industrial part of town.

When I arrived at , the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window.  Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away.  But I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation.  Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door.  This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself.

I walked to the door and knocked.  "Just a minute," answered a frail, elderly voice.  I could hear something being dragged across the floor.  After a long pause, the door opened, and a small woman in her 80's stood
before me.  She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940's movie.  By her side was a small nylon suitcase.

The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years.  All the furniture was covered with sheets.  There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters.  In the corner was a cardboard box
filled with photos and glassware.

"Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said.

I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.  She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.  She kept thanking me for my kindness.

"It's nothing," I told her.  "I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated."

"Oh, you're such a good boy," she said.

When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, "Could you drive through downtown?"

"It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly.

"Oh, I don't mind," she said.  "I'm in no hurry.  I'm on my way to a hospice."

I looked in the rear-view mirror.  Her eyes were glistening.

"I don't have any family left," she continued.  "The doctor says I don't have very long."

I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.  "What route would you like me to take?"  I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city.  She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.  We drove through the neighbourhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds.

She had me pull-up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.  Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon she suddenly said, "I'm tired.  Let's go now."

We drove in silence to the address she had given me.  It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.  Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up.  They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.  They must have been expecting her.

I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door.

The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.  "How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her purse.

"Nothing," I said.

"You have to make a living," she answered.

"There are other passengers," I responded.  Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.

She held onto me tightly.  "You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said.  "Thank you."

I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light.

Behind me, a door shut.  It was the sound of the closing of a life.

I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift.  I drove aimlessly, lost in thought.  For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk.

What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift?

What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?  On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life.

We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware -- beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

People mat not remember exactly what you did or what you said, but. . . . . . . . . .



Posted: 22 August 2008 2:58 PM
Subject: RE: The Cab Driver

Forum master

Posts: 2253
Location: North West - Peugeot Eldiss

Oh how sad but how beautiful that was.... and also how true. I always try to think how I would feel if I were the other person and sadly, I am sure there are times I fail miserably.

When I was up to dancing for hours on end, there were so often times when physically or mentally handicapped people would be in the dance hall doing their best to move to the music. So many line dancers kept away from them as though they were in the way - I always made apoint of going up to them and helping them, or asking them to partner me in a partner dance. It not only helps them to feel good about themselves, THEY gave ME so much more and so much more inner peace about my own faults and failings.

(I know I have probably been politically incorrect in how I describe these people - who there but for the grace of God go I - and I apologise if offence has been given but 'rules' change so often.)

Thank you for that lovely story Way2go.
Posted: 22 August 2008 4:01 PM
Subject: RE: The Cab Driver

ROON - 2008-08-22 2:58 PM

Oh how sad but how beautiful that was.... and also how true. .

Yeah right!......... If W2G was a cab driver he would be driving a 200k motorhome & not a swift lol
Posted: 22 August 2008 4:05 PM
Subject: RE: The Cab Driver

Epic contributor

Posts: 1790

I thought that was very touching. Thanks for sharing it, Way2Go.Ria.
Posted: 23 August 2008 7:37 AM
Subject: RE: The Cab Driver

Epic contributor

Posts: 1551
Location: Mörsdorf in the Hunsrück, Germany

JudgeMental - 2008-08-22 4:01 PM
ROON - 2008-08-22 2:58 PM Oh how sad but how beautiful that was.... and also how true. .
Yeah right!......... If W2G was a cab driver he would be driving a 200k motorhome & not a swift lol

Don't start yet ANOTHER Swift thread M'laud

Talking about 200k motorhomes a couple of nights ago we watched a brilliant 60 minute program about how they make the Winnebago.  I think it was on the National Geographic channel.

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