WHEN WE’RE TOO BUSY TO SLOW DOWN AND HELP OTHERS

My routine commute took an unexpected turn this week, when an event occurred that left me rattled and troubled. The incident has prompted me to reflect on the tradeoff that is at the very heart of our juggle: When should we leave off worrying about our own lives, and reach out to others who may need our help, The morning started like any other, with the rush to get the kids off to school

and grab the train to Grand Central Terminal. From there, I take the subway downtown to my office. The crowds at Grand Central are always legion, but today the press of people heading for the narrow stairs down to the subway seemed worse than usual. When I reached the steps, I discovered why: A woman was lying on the steps, flat on her back and apparently only semi-conscious.

The crowd was just passing by, barely slowing to step around her on their way down to the turnstiles. I’ve lived in New York for over 20 years, and I’ve seen a lot. And frankly, I myself have passed a lot of people on sidewalks and in train stations who looked worse for wear. But this stunned me to action. She was in trouble, and there was clearly no one with her. So I stopped.

When I leaned over and spoke to her, she mumbled and reached out her hand to me. I grasped it and struggled to help her up. She could barely stand, but fortunately two more people came up behind us, seeing me laboring under her weight. The three of us slowly walk-carried her down the stairs, as people around us aimed remarks in our direction along the lines of, “Is she drunk?”