GET OUT OF MY YARD!
August 28, 2007 – 1:41 amAt CJ’s weekly soccer class, the coaches play games that are expertly designed to teach kids the basics of soccer… dribbling, kicking, running, swerving, teamwork… while the kids think they’re just HAVING FUN. It’s a brilliant plan, and seems to be working quite well. Unless, of course, you’re one of the Alpha Dads who shows up once per season and says loudly to your wife, “THEY’RE NOT EVEN PLAYING SOCCER! WHAT IS THIS?!” To which I say, “Hel-LO, they’re FOUR.” Well, I don’t actually say it because I’m too much a wimp. But if you looked closely you’d definitely see it in my eyes.
Anyhow, one of the kids’ favorite games is called GET OUT OF MY YARD! It goes something like this… the two coaches cover the middle of the field where they try to keep the dozens of little boys (and girl) from dribbling their balls down the field and safely reaching the other side. The game starts when the coaches yell, “GET OUT OF MY YARD!!!”
On Thursday, I played an altogether different and less fun version of GET OUT OF MY YARD.
At 1:30, a neighbor stops by with her son, “Parker.” I am watching Parker while his mom is at the dentist. When she leaves, she notices that there is a homeless man sitting on the retaining wall that runs along the front of our yard. This is not an unusual occurrence. Our front yard is perfectly situated to be a favorite resting spot for drunks, homeless people, teenage hellions, and other wonderfully delightful sorts. I’m mostly used to it… and have no problem stepping out on the front porch and encouraging them to move along, especially when their cigarette smoke wafts in through my front windows. (I TOLD you we live in a lovely neighborhood)…
This time, however, I am unaware of our new “neighbor” until Parker’s mom comes back to pick Parker up two hours later.
“Umm,” she says a little uncertainly, “you might be interested to know that there’s a man passed out in your front yard.”
“WHAT?!?!?!” I leap for the living room, pull up the blind and look out. Sure enough, sprawled out comfortably in our front yard is a man with all his bags. People walk by; give him a sideways glance, and keep going.
“He’s been there since I left,” she tells me. “He was sitting there and must have since passed out.”
“THAT IS NOT OK!” I shout. “PEOPLE ARE NOT ALLOWED TO PASS OUT IN MY FRONT YARD!”
Maybe this is too strong of a reaction… but I tend to get protective of my 6 inches of real estate.
I open the front door and burst onto the front porch. “HEY!” I shout, “HEY YOU! WAKE UP!”
He doesn’t move. At all.
“I walked right by him and he didn’t even budge.” Parker’s mom tells me.
Well. I’m certainly not going to go over and give him a good shake. He’s a big guy, and I don’t want to be the one to startle him from his sweet dreams.
“I’m calling the police.” I announce and promptly pick up the phone and start to dial.
Once it’s clear that I’m not in an emergency situation, I am rudely thrust into an enormous phone tree. Oddly enough, there is no option for “If you have a man passed out in your front yard, press 4.” I listen twice through but don’t hear an option that applies. Finally I just push a button. I have a sneaking suspicion they all go to the same place anyhow.
“Operator. What seems to be the problem?”
My heartbeat accelerates. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve called the police. Actually I think I’d only need half a hand.
“Um, yes… there’s a man passed out in my yard.” I say.
“Should I send an ambulance?” She asks; all business.
“Well… um… I’m not sure. I mean, he’s clearly homeless. He might be drunk, or just sleeping… I don’t really know. But he’s been there for a couple of hours.” And the park is just one block away… you’d think he could’ve walked the extra block and found a nice bench to sleep on rather than MY YARD. But I don’t say the last part.
“Ma’am, I’m going to get EMT on the phone to screen this one. Please hold on the line.”
“Um, ok…”
An official sounding man comes on the line. “EMT response. Please describe the situation.”
“Well, there’s a man passed out in my yard. He might be sleeping, I don’t really know.”
“Is he breathing ma’am?”
“Uh…” I lean towards the window and peer out. “I don’t really know actually.” Darn it! I should’ve checked his vitals! What was I thinking?! “To be honest I didn’t really want to get that close.”
“Yep, we’ll go on this one.” Two minutes later I hear sirens. The fire truck arrives, horns blazing. Six firemen jump out and surround my sleeping friend.
Through the open window, I can hear them. My friend and I lean close, peering out. My heart is still racing. The excitement! The sirens! The firemen!! All in my front yard! It takes them a few minutes to wake him up. Finally he sits up, clearly disoriented. Meanwhile the firemen are running a full medical screen. Pulse, blood pressure, checking bones for breaks, etc. Very thorough. Very impressive. They are kind, sympathetic, and professional.
As we watch, my friend says, “It’s a good thing you called. Just imagine all those people who walked by and didn’t even give him a second look.”
I feel ashamed. Because if he hadn’t been in MY yard I probably wouldn’t have given him a second look either. And to be honest, my first and only concern was getting this man OUT OF MY YARD.
An ambulance arrives and they cart the man away. I don’t know what was wrong. Maybe it was just excessive amounts of alcohol. Maybe it was the many layers of clothes on an already warm day. Maybe he really had a medical problem.
Whatever the case, I got what I wanted… my yard is again empty.
But the experience sits uncomfortably with me. My mind keeps wandering back to it, exploring it, and not liking this side of me that has come rudely into focus. Am I this person; the one who’s more worried about the sanctity of her (let’s face it) rather unkempt yard than the health and well-being of a fellow human being?
In a strange way I’m glad for the discomfort. For this, at least, gives me hope that there is empathy buried somewhere down inside. And perhaps, through this experience, I can become a slightly better person.
Here’s hoping.
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Thanks to Brillig for awarding this the Perfect Post award!
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Mother. Coffee drinker. Information seeker. Skeptic. Creative. Dreamer. Schemer. Absolutely Bananas.
By Anonymous on Aug 27, 2007 | Reply
I would have done the same thing. You never know what he could have been capable of when he reached consciousness.
By Alex Elliot on Aug 27, 2007 | Reply
But you did everything that you could in the situation. It wouldn’t have matter if you had checked for his vitals, because they would have sent an ambulance over anyway because he was passed out. I know you’re asking if you walked by the same situation at someone’s house would you have done the same thing. I suspect that if the situation would have been reversed with your friend you may have shouted for the person to leave her lawn and finding him unresponsive, you would have still called for help. It may not have been the initial concern for another person, but it would have ended up with the concern for another person. Your post in and of itself is bringing an awareness that in a situation like this all it takes is a shout or two, depending on how safe you feel the situation, or a phone call if you think something is not quite right. You obviously knew that something wasn’t quite right.
By Kimberly on Aug 27, 2007 | Reply
I love the way you put that. That discomfort you describe, I’ve experienced it too, and it really does give one hope, doesn’t it?
By creative-type dad on Aug 27, 2007 | Reply
Well, no matter what - he did get help.
By Carla on Aug 28, 2007 | Reply
You care! As a mom my children’s safety comes first. You wanted to help and you did. Good for you!
By Annie on Aug 28, 2007 | Reply
I think a lot of us have similar feelings. You did the right thing and that matters.
I just read someone’s blog post yesterday (found it through cr8buzz) that described how her Dad became troubled and changed after a head injury after being mugged. He ended up homeless, and died homeless. I have always looked at homeless people and asked myself ‘what went wrong in your life’ - and tried to imagine their life before they ended up on the streets. However fear for my safety and that of my kids has always prevented me from reaching out in any real way to them - you just don’t know.
By Summer on Aug 28, 2007 | Reply
This is a very thought provoking post. I would have called the police too. The safety of myself and kids definitely comes first.
By Mommy Daisy on Aug 28, 2007 | Reply
Strange situation. I think we all feel like you are feeling once in a while.
By Jessica on Aug 28, 2007 | Reply
You also have to take into account your well-being and the well-being of your family. So you didn’t overlook that man at all, you just did the best thing you could safely do to help him.
By ktjrdn on Aug 28, 2007 | Reply
yeah, you did the right thing. He really has no right to be passed out in your yard. It is your property. There was absolutely nothing wrong with what you did. My husband is a paramedic and gets this all the time. I’m betting they were kind and professinoal, but were faking the sympathetic part. Those kinds of people really annoy most of them.
By Brillig on Aug 28, 2007 | Reply
Wow. This is very thought-provoking! You were right to try to stay away, and also right to call the police. I know you feel that your heart was in the wrong place–that you were being congratulated for your “sympathy” when you hadn’t actually felt sympathetic at all. But at least you DID SOMETHING and protected your home and your family. And in the end he did get the help he needed.
Still, though, I understand your discomfort. What a hard situation!
By Mama Zen on Aug 28, 2007 | Reply
I would have had the same reaction that you did. Protective instinct, pure and simple. You did what was right, reasonable, and safe.
By magnolia mama on Aug 28, 2007 | Reply
We had a similar thing happen…not in our front yard but our neighborhood village (I’m sure you can figure out where based on my blog name). My husband called and since the fire station is so close we could hear the sirens headed out to help this man.
We’ve had several break-ins during the day lately in our ‘hood. I’m locking my doors during the day now. You are always better safe than sorry. We do live in a big city.
By Mert on Aug 28, 2007 | Reply
Ahhh, yes. The discomfort… which proves that you are indeed still a decent person. There IS hope for you
Well, every day we learn something new right?
Anyway, I think you are far from being one of those people.
By Rachel on Aug 28, 2007 | Reply
To be very honest, I think I would have done the same thing.
By Jennifer aka Binky Bitch on Aug 28, 2007 | Reply
That would be very uncomfortable. I think I would have done the same thing…walked on by without helping, only helping if it somehow directly affected me. Maybe this should be a wake-up call for all of us.
By Coma Girl on Aug 28, 2007 | Reply
Is it wrong that I found this story hysterical?
I just added you to my google reader. That’s it. One story and I am hooked. I am easy.
By shauna on Aug 28, 2007 | Reply
I love this post! It makes you think. I would have reacted just like you did. While Idaho Falls has its cons (hobo spiders, one), it definitely has its perks… (i.e. The destitute don’t make it to my house…)
By Bananas on Aug 28, 2007 | Reply
Thanks for the thoughtful comments everyone. I don’t mean to say I would have done anything differently if the situation happened again, but I was a little unsettled by my motives.
Anyhow, my dad sent me the following email after reading this post that I just HAD to share…
“If this keeps happening, you might want to install automatic sprinklers.”
By carrie on Aug 28, 2007 | Reply
I think you exercised reasonable caution in the situation and you called the right people. They wouldn’t have taken him in the ambulance if there wasn’t a good reason (says my firefighter husband) - so you did the right thing.
And the fact that you’re thinking about how it all made you feel is proof that you ARE human. And you DO have empathy.
We’re all learning, every day.
By carrie on Aug 28, 2007 | Reply
Oh, your Dad is hilarious!!!
By Queen of Shake-Shake on Aug 29, 2007 | Reply
Discomfort is always good, so I’ve heard. It lets you know where you need to do some inner work.
Great post Jenny. Sometimes I get down over my own reactions and the seemingly uncaring attitude of society (myself included)
By Jenn on Aug 29, 2007 | Reply
Hmmm…sprinklers for 6-inches of yard space may be a tad bit on the overboard side. And you’d have to mow more often.
By Jen on Sep 4, 2007 | Reply
Sometimes we do good even when that’s not our purpose. I’m glad it was a win-win for both of you!
Congrats on the blog award!
By Butrfly4404 on Sep 4, 2007 | Reply
Society really teaches us just to mind our own business.
When we try to help out strangers - especially ones whose situation isn’t clear to us - we are often burned in some way.
Calling the police was a great way to go about it - you had every right to worry about your safety if you had approached him.
But I have to say, from the beginning of your post, your yard sounds a lot like the one were my brother stopped to lie down on the way to school the morning he died of a heart attack. I was eleven years old and scared and didn’t know what was happening and at least six other people walked by and pretended not to see me. I wish the owner of the house would have yelled at us or called the police or something - because even if they only wanted me off their lawn, they would have given me the attention we needed.
Don’t beat yourself up - whatever the reason, you were there and you did your duty.
Congrats on the Perfect Post - another Brilliant Pick from Brillig!
By Jo Beaufoix on Sep 4, 2007 | Reply
Hey, Congrats Bananas, and I’d have done the same thing too.
You got him help but you also kept yourself safe.
Stop beating yourself up sweetie.
By missburrows on Jan 2, 2008 | Reply
Next time, just a throw a blanket over him and call him a speed bump.
(Seriously, I’m sure you helped him out.)