Help Or Hit the Road -- You Tell Me
It’s 6:15 a.m. on your bike commute to work, and you’re about three miles in when you notice something big in your lane on the asphalt bike path that parallels a busy freeway. You’re kinda in a barren area, with the highway on one side and a desolate canyon on the other. As you get closer, the image comes into focus: It’s a body.
You slow way down and approach what appears to be a guy in his early to mid-20s wearing shorts, a shirt and a flannel jacket. He looks well groomed and is lying on his side in a slight fetal position, a cell phone just inches from his face. There’s no blood, vomit or other body fluids around him. But this is a high-traffic thoroughfare and he isn’t moving, either. You’re not even sure he’s breathing.
An older gentleman on his morning walk is approaching in the opposite direction and staring you down, shaking his head. Do you dismount from your bike and try to wake the guy on the path? Move his cell phone so no one steals it? Call for help, even though you aren’t sure he wants it? Or do you just continue on your way, convinced you weren’t the first to find this unfortunate scene, nor will you be the last?
You slow way down and approach what appears to be a guy in his early to mid-20s wearing shorts, a shirt and a flannel jacket. He looks well groomed and is lying on his side in a slight fetal position, a cell phone just inches from his face. There’s no blood, vomit or other body fluids around him. But this is a high-traffic thoroughfare and he isn’t moving, either. You’re not even sure he’s breathing.
An older gentleman on his morning walk is approaching in the opposite direction and staring you down, shaking his head. Do you dismount from your bike and try to wake the guy on the path? Move his cell phone so no one steals it? Call for help, even though you aren’t sure he wants it? Or do you just continue on your way, convinced you weren’t the first to find this unfortunate scene, nor will you be the last?