Dead Man Riding

On my way down from the Back Mountain, traffic had stopped for a funeral procession that was crossing our light. We waited through the green and waited through the red until it had passed. That’s one of the courtesies our society grants to the deceased on their last trip. Well, two of them: everybody gets to ride in a Cadillac and all traffic stops for you.

Too bad we don’t extend the courtesy of “stop and let them cross” while the people are living; no sense waiting until they can’t appreciate the honor.

I was taught to be aware of cross streets when traffic stops, to leave room for cars to enter from or turn into. To be aware of business driveways (gas stations, fast food places, drive-through banks, etc.) when I have to stop. To slow a bit and flash my lights so people facing me know they can make a left across traffic.

I was taught this by others who did it for me and I appreciated their thoughtfulness. It was more than kindness; they were thinking of the other person, looking out for the good of others.

What’s good about this is, they can never pay you back. All they can do is pass it on and, with any luck at all, the people they help will also pass it on. If all works out well, your actions will spread further than you could imagine and you will never know the amount of good you have eventually done. And you’ve done it before that person gets the inevitable ride in the Cadillac.