Jubilee Line Moment
It was a hot day and I was on the Jubilee Line train. We were waiting at Finchley Road station with the doors open. Suddenly a woman dropped to the floor like a rag doll. She had collapsed, most likely from the dehydration. I never did find out why.
My fellow passengers reacted within a split-second of her hitting the floor. One person leapt down on to the ground to check if she was breathing, another jumped over to the pull the emergency alarm, someone else passed a bottle of water forward. Everyone crowded in to see what was wrong, how and if they could help.
People didn't stand back and look at her for a minute before bending down tentatively to help. They didn't size up the situation, they didn't stop for a moment to calculate what was in their best interests.
They acted without thinking. They just helped. Irrationally and for no other reason than because it was in their instincts to do so.
What an antidote to the daily pages of cynicism that flow from the free tabloids I mechanically pick up on my way to work.
Whenever I start to seriously doubt people again, I think back on that moment. On the split-second reaction, on the instinctive concern of strangers for a fellow traveller.
It makes me feel better.
