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Sometimes Legal Remedies Are Not Enough

As I have written before, my favorite vehicle was a Volkswagen Bus for many years. They were economical and handy for many uses. I usually had a trailer hitch on the back for towing trailers, too.
Now, I’m no philanthropist and as a general rule, don’t give to charities, especially after trying to give the Red Cross a truckload of new tents and they refused them. I even offered to take them to Nicaragua and erect them for the mud slide victims. After all, they had solicited money for tents, blankets and clothes for this particular disaster. They would, however be glad to take my credit card number. As a result, I would not give the bastards a cup of air. Let alone money so the executives can fly their jets to Las Vegas for a convention. Just saying…………
Having established that, I will tell you however that I do like to help those less fortunate whenever I can.
I met an old homeless guy, George, at the Hardees, situated near the intersection of Boulevard and Broad Street in Richmond, Va. I had stopped in for a ham biscuit and saw him reading the paper. After asking him if he wanted to dine with me, he did, and we talked. George was a retired rail worker and a Navy Veteran. He was not a drunk. Circumstances had left him homeless without a choice.
He liked to hang out at that particular intersection for reasons known only to him. So for a few years, I would look for him if I was passing through and stop if I saw him. We would get a bite to eat, talk, and I would help him with a few dollars. He liked bananas and I would surprise him with those too, sometimes.
One particular afternoon, I was traveling South on the Boulevard and approaching the intersection, saw my friend. But I had just missed the place where I could turn. I put the bus in reverse to go back a few feet and planted my trailer hitch squarely in the radiator of a Toyota sedan.
I got out and was dismayed to see this. A young man also got out of the Toyota to see what had happened to his car. I apologized profusely and assured him that this was my fault and his car would be cared for. Oil and water were running out onto the street, steam rising from the engine.
He first asked if I had insurance. Of course, I told him and again reassured that this would be taken care of and I offered to call a wrecker to take his vehicle wherever he wanted it to go. Then he made a mistake. He said, “Good, I’m hurt and I want an ambulance”, all of a sudden holding his neck.
Really!!? I had contacted his car doing about three miles per hour, the rate at which a human walks. I was annoyed to say the least.
Apparently a passing motorist had called 911 and a policeman pulled up before I had time to call them. He asked me what had happened. I said “Officer, I stopped and this guy ran into the rear of my vehicle.”
The young man went ballistic! He started screaming and cursing, and called us a couple of ‘white bastards’. Now, I’m sure this was not intended to be a reflection on our mothers, but the cop was not amused in the least. He arrested him for ‘curse and abuse’ ,handcuffed him, and put him in the back of his patrol car.
After taking some photos, and filling out some report forms, he said I was free to go. As I walked by the patrol car, I made a point of passing the open window where the young man was sitting.
I said, NOW you are hurt.

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