November 6, 2009

Bomb scare

Friday on my way to work 11-6-09 I was running late as is par of the course..or mind you I just don’t worry when I go in…I just stay later if I am late..which is everyday. So anyways I came around off Cass to Third by the MGM Casino after going to Avalon for breakfast. And while there I decided to not use cash but debit my food, which I thought to myself was odd cuz if I have it I like to use it but not this day, I might need it.

Well fast forward to about 3 blocks from work and I see a rolling suitcase sitting on the curb unattended. I instantly thought of Europe where that shit don’t fly and they will shut down areas and call in the bomb unit..i remember when it happened at the Heathrow Airport when I was there in 92. Dumb ass American not getting why I was being pushed out of a store and having its doors slammed shut and being sectioned off to a secure area..i must have looked like an idiot cuz someone asked “You’re an American right?” I was like uh yea..and they explained there was unattended luggage found (most likely by and American!) and the airport went into crack down mode.

So yea I see this luggage…and I see a guy walk past as I drove up..he barely noticed it. i pull over cuz I see tags on it and then I see a woman walking up and I ask if it is hers. She tells me yes and then I see her grab it and continue to walk away. I start to drive away happy it has a home when I look back and see another piece of luggage on the road. She must have forgot it? I’m confused. I toss the car in reverse and ask her if she meant to leave that and she said she was going back for it.

You see she was walking half a block with half her luggage and going back getting the other pieces, of which she had 3, 2 on wheels one not and then repeating the whole thing over again. I asked her where she was going assuming she just got off Grayhound. she told me Ford Field..i did the map in my head and figured it would take her like 4 hours. I looked at her and motioned to the back seat and told her to throw her bags in and get in. She looked at me stunned but was happy to get in. Mind you she got in the back seat which I felt bad about but she was content with all her luggage.

She told me I must be a good church going lady because I was doing the work of god helping her out. Inside my head I told her I was the farthest thing for god but instead of telling her that I asked her name. It was Jean, I told her mine and we chatted while I drove her the bus station at Grand Circus Park, you know the one with the two statues of dead white guys. (Pingree being one of them)

She told me she came from Saginaw and seemed embarrassed. I asked if she was on the streets long, she told me no and was heading to a Shelter at 32 mile road..whoa quite a distance to travel but she seemed to know what she was doing. She told me she missed the bus and NSO shelter the night before and that it was expensive to get a lift from there back to grayhound to sleep.

I pulled over on the side of the ‘other dead white guy’ statue and a cop car pulled up right behind me. Too bad I thought I am getting out and put on my hazards, I motioned to them I would be a moment and unloaded Jeans belongings. I had also before I got out reaching in and got the cash from my bag that I had not used for some reason at Avalon and was so happy that I had not as I realized why. We hugged goodbye on the curb and I tugged the money into her hand. She looked at me with such gratitude and tried to give it back, no luck Ms. Jean and I wished her good luck as she thanked me and blessed me…she thanked me and blessed me. hmmm

This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s