After my audiologist appointment on a Tuesday morning – I will need hearing aids one of these days – I trekked to downtown Albany. Near the corner of Washington and Lark, trying to figure out what I wanted to eat for lunch, a woman in a wheelchair approached me. She said, “Excuse me, could you…” I almost didn’t let her ask her question.
I had gone to a workshop a few days earlier about dealing with people looking for money. But that wasn’t what she was going to ask me. “Excuse me, could you push my wheelchair…” to a specific, unfamiliar place? I asked where it was, two or three blocks away. I had a window of time, so I said okay. She asked my name, and I asked hers. I’m going to call her Elizabeth.
Right away, Elizabeth was pleased that I waited for the light when we were trying to traverse Central Avenue. A few pedestrians had begun to cross, but I knew that sequence very well. Sure enough, they were in the middle of the street when traffic threatened them. She noted that her ex-boyfriend had helped her cross the street, and she ended up getting hit by a car.
Elizabeth had offered to hold my briefcase, where I was carrying my laptop. Initially, I said no, but as my right hand began cramping, I took her up on her offer. She said it made her feel like a professional. I told her when I needed to stop to put on my sunglasses and knit hat because I recognized she couldn’t see what I would do.
Why the wheelchair?
Elizabeth had lost a few toes due to an infection in March 2024; a lawsuit is in the works. She seems to know a few people who are on the street. When we crossed Henry Johnson Boulevard, she knew how difficult it was to get back on the sidewalk, so she asked me to walk in the street on Central Avenue. This was slightly terrifying, but I had my orange hat on, so no harm befell us. About halfway up the block, there was a cutout so we could get back onto the sidewalk.
You never really notice how uneven sidewalks can be unless you’re pushing a wheelchair, using a cart, or some other unusual circumstance. Half a block before we got to her destination, she asked if she could have some money. At this point, I felt like I had developed a relationship with this person. I was disinclined to direct her to some agency she could visit, so I gave her $20, which startled her. “Are you sure?” Yes.
We got to the corner near her destination. She crossed the street on her own. I stood waiting to make sure she got across. She had to go up the cutout backward because that was the only way she could maneuver it.
I can’t explain this exactly, but it felt like an honor to be able to do this for Elizabeth. Other people were around Washington and Lark, but she asked me to push her wheelchair a few blocks. I learned a lot from her in that 15 minutes or so.
Before we departed, Elizabeth said, “You’re a very nice man.” I said, “Yes, I am.” She laughed and said, “Boy, aren’t you full of yourself?” I replied, “Well, you brought it up.”
Joe pardoned Hunter, and I don’t care.
I saw a quiz on Mark Evanier’s 
I went to see the new 
I have 
