Of Strangers

I suspected in my mind at least a 45-minute+ drive in the offing to the county seat, picture i.d. in hand and my checkbook. Needed some paperwork and couldn’t find it when sifting through my files and then the county’s online site.

But before getting in the truck, I called the county records department. Just past 9:00. The woman who answered—and I didn’t get her name, unfortunately—had the voice: professionally courteous. I explained what I hoped to find, my version of a golden ticket. Her reply: That doesn’t get filed with us.

So, I went for the second-best, some information that could be the first step on a trail of detective work that could lead, maybe, to what I needed information-wise. Wait, she said. And so silently she worked through screens of pages from closing documents. Nothing yet, she said. I waited.

Got it—she seemed pleased. An attorney’s name because one page of dozens had been stamped. And a phone number. Maybe 9:10 or so, as I recall.

I phoned the law office. Again, greeted professionally and courteously, and I offered up my need. A few questions, a short silence, and a simple proclamation: We have it, but we can’t release it to you.

What if? I asked. Karen paused: Hold on a minute, please.

After a few minutes, the next voice I heard was that of a senior partner. I explained, he asked some questions. I waited as he looked over the files. He requested some information be faxed to him, and he offered to have the item I need scanned and emailed to me.

Off to a local shipping/post/fax/etc business I went and the documents were on the way—9:30. I drove home, took a shower, shaved, and then by and by checked my email. Voila! Got it, and I emailed the document to where it needed to get to. At 10:20.

Just three people. Three strangers doing their jobs, showing consideration, solving a small problem in a world of catastrophes, but an important hurdle cleared for me.

The way the world really works so much of the time—people getting stuff done for other people, even when no immediate monetary reward is on the table. And though it a bit cliché to note, not the stuff of the 24/7 news cycle.

What else do we have, though. To be embroiled in the rage of the world? No, no thank you. Let me revel a bit in the sanctity of small human kindnesses. Just for a morning, at least.

By the way, I thought the title for this post would be The Kindness of Strangers, but I changed my mind knowing some readers would have a very specific scene come into their heads and could not unread it.

And now, they can’t.