Robinwood and Delaware
I mean well. I try to do the right thing, whatever that may look like, whenever I can. One thing I wish I did more of was volunteer. It's almost always something I think of when it's too late.
“We could help hand out meals at the Cherry Street Mission on Thanksgiving!”
Fails to think about it until the day before.
“I bet the Humane Society needs help with Bark at the Park!”
Turns out that was two weeks prior.
Thankfully, my wife saw a mutual friend's post a few weeks ago searching for volunteers for the (then) upcoming Old West End Festival. It's an event I've attended many times over the years, and it seemed like a great opportunity to give something back in some small way. We (my wife, daughter, and me) decided to sign up as Corner Guards for the King Wamba parade that kicks off the weekend's festivities. Our job was to post up at the corner of Robinwood and Delaware, make sure no cars attempted to bypass the barricades along the parade route and give the assigned Police Officer a helping hand. Simple enough. We figured we'd lend a helping hand, watch the parade, and skedaddle, seeing as how my daughter had planned on catching a screening of The Amazing Digital Circus: The Last Act that day. We got some bitchin’ hot pink t-shirts with a flamingo on them for volunteering to boot (Thanks, Jon).
The assignment went off without a hitch, easy peasy. The TPD Officer did most of the heavy lifting when unsuspecting drivers approached the intersection in hopes of passing through and were ultimately told to turn it around and find an alternate route. At one point, a visibly frazzled man pulled up in a hurry, stating that he needed to get through to deliver ice to the nearby beer tents just across the intersection at the Arboretum. Once we explained that wasn't a possibility, he was understanding and began looking for an alternative solution. He asked whether someone riding by on one of the numerous golf carts in the area could help deliver the ice. We told him it seemed like a good option if he could convince someone to lend a hand. Moments later, a lone woman came cruising up to the area in a cart. When my wife asked if she could assist in the matter, without hesitation, she volunteered.
I remember thinking how kind that was of her. She didn't know the man, didn't owe him anything, and yet she immediately volunteered to help instead of continuing to ride around and enjoying the day's events, looking for friends.
The parade was slated to begin at 10:00 a.m. Apparently, the rain was running on the same schedule. The skies opened up just as the lineup of participants started marching along the route. We came prepared with umbrellas for each of us, so no worries there. I wish I could say the same for all of the parade performers who had to tough it out as they zigzagged their way through the Old West End. Personally, I'll take light rain over 90° and humid any day. As with all things O.W.E., there's always a strong presence of the artistic, the peaceful, the welcoming, and the open-minded, and this event was no different. A wide array of participants passed us by: high school bands, youth dance groups, suicide prevention advocates, anti-gun violence activists, those speaking out against the violence in Palestine, LGBTQIA+ allies, pageant winners, and men on horseback. Just over an hour later, like clockwork, the rain ended just as the parade did the same. We headed to the car and carried on with our day.
Later that evening, I was gaming with some friends on the computer. Taking a breather, I decided to open up Facebook. That's when I saw it. Mass shooting “near” the Old West End Festival (it wasn't near, it was right in the middle of it all). Living in America, you become a bit desensitized when you read stories of such events given how often they occur. Whether it's right or wrong of me, this one hit different. It soon dawned on me that the shooting took place at the exact intersection my family and I were volunteering at just hours prior. It's not as if we escaped death by minutes or inches, but that proximity was enough to leave me feeling a different sort of way. It’s strange to think that nothing in particular stood out about that corner earlier that day, only to become the epicenter of meaningless bloodshed and panic that evening that made headlines around the world. My feed was inundated with personal accounts of their experience of what had taken place, friends and strangers alike. At the time, it was still unknown as to how many were shot, whether any casualties were involved or if the gunmen were in custody.
The sense of community I saw in the hours and days after the incident was somewhat reminiscent of the days following 9/11 for anyone who’s old enough to remember that time period. Nowadays, it seems we’re all so divided over so many different things, even things that one would assume we’d all be on the same page about (basic human rights, equality, justice, etc.). But I saw so much community taking place, in the truest sense of the word. People jumped to the aid of those who were injured, or simply shaken up by the events. And guess who one of the most recognized individuals turned out to be?
The woman on the golf cart.
Her name is Whitney Beachum and luckily happens to be an off-duty Nurse Practitioner. You may have seen her in local news reports for immediately stepping in to assist those who were injured. It came as no surprise that the woman who didn’t think twice about helping a stranger deliver some ice was the exact same woman who didn't hesitate to help save victims' lives without being asked.
I think we could all learn a thing or two from Whitney, as well as the residents that were more than willing to help out those in need. I’m quite guilty of getting caught up with the seemingly endless cycle of negative and hate-filled news headlines that plague our screens day in and day out. It’d be easy to simply focus on the two gunmen who were responsible for all of this chaos and violence, as I’m sure many are doing exactly that. But it’s so nice to see that there really is some good out there in the world, including in my proverbial backyard.
Here’s to the Old West End Festival 2027, where the neighborhood will come together bigger and stronger than ever before.
(Disclaimer: I wasn't able to verify with absolute certainty that the woman on the golf cart was Ms. Beachum. My wife is 99% certain it's her, as she recognized her clothing from our encounter when she saw photos of her in the news articles. I did reach out to her for verification, but have not heard back from her at this time.)