This May Not Seem Lke Much, But It Made Me (And Continues To Make Me) Feel A Little Better

Not the actual sign (kind of a rendering)

-by Ken

We're all finding ways of coping with the present you-know-what. I think this is worth talking about, but just now, after returning from a walk around my extended neighborhood, armed with ATM cash and a bag containing milk, strawberries, onions, and green and yellow bell peppers, I'm thinking about a bunch of people who live in my apartment building. I'm going to make up names, so as to avoid infringing on these folks' privacy, and for the same reason I squelched the idea of posting a picture of what I'm about to describe.

(Or at least partly for that reason. Another reason is that I take astoundingly awful pictures with my smart-phone camera, as I have with most every camera that's been innocently thrust into my hands in my adult life. It's incredibly awkward to have to say, every time some unsuspecting soul, trying to hand me their phone or little camera and asking me please just to snap a shot of them, that no, they really don't want to do this.)

Nevertheless, I have every reason to believe that all of these people are real. I qualify this only because, from their names alone, I don't think I know any of them. Oh, I might recognize them by sight, and may even have exchanged polite words on occasion, but that's the extent of it.

First off, it was "Hank and Mitch" who posted a neatly word-processed sign, on the wall by the mailboxes in our building, right next to a sheet posted by management detailing its crisis-related concerns and precautions. On their sign they wrote that if anyone needs help of any kind, please not to hesitate to knock on their door.

To which an unnamed person, presumably a fellow tenant, soon added a neatly printed "THANK YOU." In short order similar signs appeared, posted by (let's say) "Pam & Chuck" and "Sally & Tom." One included a phone number. The three signs' open offers of help are variously worded; one goes so far as to specify things like shopping or prescriptions or anything else. I had an impulse when I passed them this morning, on my return from that neighborhood walk, to copy them down verbatim, but I would have felt awkward if anyone happened to notice me doing so.

This morning, however, I noticed that the "THANK YOU" affixer has hit the 2nd and 3rd signs as well.

You should understand that, as Manhattan apartment buildings go, ours isn't big. Don't hold me to these numbers, but I think it's something like this: seven apartments on the ground floor and nine each on the 2nd through 6th, for a total of roughly 52. For this modest number of units to yield three such outreaches -- not to mention the work of the unstoppable "THANK YOU" affixer -- seems to me pretty darned nice.

I have an impulse to knock on their doors just to say hello (I might recognize any or all of them by sight, but by name I don't know any of them) and tell them they've done something really nice. So has the anonymous "THANK YOU" affixer, but in his/her case I woudln't even know which door to knock on. In the present circumstances, of course, in a world now working hard to concern itself with social distancing, I'm not inclined to go door-knocking, in the absence of any of the kinds of need for which door-knocking has been specifically invited.

Maybe I'll attempt it if/when the world has returned to something like normal. Meanwhile, I'm still touched by those signs every time I pass them. They've made me feel a little better about mankind. As the years have passed I've become less and less a fan of the human race generally. Sure, I know that the potential for decency is built into every human who emerges from the production process. It just doesn't seem much in fashion these days.

I never imagined I would see a time when human decency is so blatantly disregarded if not actually renounced, so widely derided and mocked, if not actually punished. Every time I walk past those signs, they remind me that yeah, people are like that but they're also like this.