New York Minute 105 - Disease and Desperation

There are lots of cars in New York City. Traffic is often heavy here, and gridlock is common at peak hours. But at its core, New York is a city of pedestrians. Many residents don’t own cars. That can be difficult for non-city dwellers to comprehend, but think of the challenges of keeping a car in the city. The cost of insurance is prohibitively high. Street parking is limited and subject to regulations that force you to move your car regularly. Garage parking is expensive. Public transportation can take you almost anywhere, so the expense and hassle of owning a car is, for a lot of people, an unnecessary burden.

Most New Yorkers get around by walking or taking public transportation, taxis, and ride sharing services. The upshot of living in a pedestrian centered city is that as we come in contact with a lot of people, people of all shapes and sizes, all ages and ethnicities, and from a wide array of professions and income levels. Some of them are well off; many are destitute. Most are somewhere in the middle. On any given subway car, you’re likely to find homeless people riding along side of millionaires, business executives riding with students or workers who earn the minimum wage. New York is and always has been a melting pot.

Some of the most disturbing and heartbreaking encounters involve people who are extremely sick or disfigured. I saw young man that I saw panhandling on the subway a couple of weeks ago who was in shockingly bad physical condition. I was so troubled by his sickly appearance that I gave him some money. As a rule, I never give to panhandlers, because I don’t want to encourage their behavior, but this pathetic fellow pulled strongly on my heartstrings.

He was a White guy in his early twenties, tall and slender with glasses and red hair cropped short in a crew cut. Despite wearing a massive brace on one leg, he struggled to walk. One of his arms was fixed in a bent position; with the other arm, he grasped onto poles to maintain his balance as he worked his way through the car.

But it was more than lack of mobility that distinguished this poor fellow. His complexion was pale and sickly to a degree that I have never seen before. He looked frightfully anemic and looked to be suffering from some ghastly disease. When I put the money into his cup, he tried to thank me but didn’t even have the strength to muster a whisper. He looked at me with sorrowful green eyes that seemed desperate to communicate with someone, anyone. It was a profoundly heartbreaking experience.

Never take your health for granted. Being in even reaonably good health is the greatest of blessings, and having full mobility is a gift beyond measure. 

Copyright © 2018 Daniel R. South 

All Rights Reserved