[Editor’s note: This story is the first from IShareTheRoad.com contributor and pedestrian advocate Kim Cottrell.]

Five blocks from home and ready to be off the street, my progress was suddenly halted when the cars in front of me stopped at the traffic circle to let someone cross the street. An very unsteady older man tottered into view.

He made his way to the sidewalk but then veered toward the car he was in front of, perhaps mistaking it for the Tri-Met van he awaited. He attempted to get inside the car but the pizza delivery person inside the van repeatedly told him, “No, this isn’t your car.” In his confusion, the man fumbled with the van door, more and more unsteady by the moment.

As soon as the way was clear, the car in front of me squeezed past the situation and drove away. However, with the man still in the middle of the crossing he would be in danger when traffic began moving again. So, with my car parked in the middle of the street, shielding him from imminent danger, I flipped on my emergency flashers, turned the car off, and went to help him to the side of the street.

As I approached, he turned in my direction and seemed to welcome the arm I offered. I suggested we go to the sidewalk and wait for help to come. The delivery guy yelled a thank you and continued on his way. A bicyclist rode by thanking me but he soon returned to help, apparently noticing that my car needed to be moved out of the street and that the man was extremely confused.

I phoned 911, gave a description of the man and our location. The emergency dispatcher assured me an officer would be there very soon. So we waited, the confused man, the bicyclist, and me. The man had a bandage on one hand, the kind they apply after an IV has been removed in the hospital and an abrasion on his head, perhaps from a fall.

As we waited, we asked the man a few questions. He took a very long time to give his phone number, which we later learned was disconnected, but he was able to tell us his name. Mostly staring straight ahead, he looked up to wave at a bus as it went by.

The officer arrived and asked the man the same questions. I stayed around to see if there was anything else I’d be needed for, but it was clear the situation was under control. In fact, the officer told the man, “Sir, you’ve paid enough taxes, the least I can do is give you a ride home.” We all smiled except the man.

As I drove away, I thought of the man and what his life must be. I hope he found his way back to the people who care where he rests at night. And I wondered, who will pause next time he needs help? Who will guide him to safety?