When I was commuting in college, I was often very tired. I’d sometimes walk from the Broadway area to the Coleman Dock in Seattle to catch a ferry.

Once, I did not really look carefully as I was crossing the intersection of 2nd and Marion onto the old Skybridge. A Metro bus was rapidly approaching to make a right around the corner. I did not see it. I only saw the Walk signal.

Unexpectedly, a very tall man picked me up by my coat’s hood and yanked me back onto the sidewalk. Then he just walked off. I never got the chance to thank him. He was gone in an instant.

Years later, I was driving home from a class I was teaching. Suddenly, all the idiot lights flashed on in my aging car, and the vehicle made concerning noises. I pulled off to the side shoulder by a small farm and started to call Triple A.

There was a knock on my window. I rolled down the window and saw a face peering at me. A dark-haired white man in his thirties was staring at me.

“Get out of the car now,” he instructed. “Don’t panic, but your car is on fire.”

I found this difficult to believe. The car was still running. The car window functioned. The lights and heater were on. The radio was playing.

When I stepped out of the vehicle, though, the entire undercarriage burst into flames. It was like something you’d see in a film.

A rod had shot through my oil pan and ignited a fire. If I had stayed in the car, as I intended to, I would have burned. The fact that I did not came down to a person noticing something odd in his window and deciding to intervene.

The man’s name was Robert. I got him a Thank You card and left it at his mailbox. I never saw him again.

You are reading this blog only because two people made decisions to do the right thing. They did not profit in any way. They just did what they did because they could not do anything differently. I am eternally grateful for this.