The Whistle Blew

-Devlyn Steele

I had an interesting experience this weekend. At first thought I was not going to write about it. The nature of the event is not the type of occurrence that I like to be associated with, as it involved violence. While reflecting on it, I thought about why I got involved and that brought me back to my childhood. I realized that there are lessons to be extracted that could serve as inspiration to you about not being passive about your life. To jump in and fight for your happiness and what is right.

So Friday night, after a hard workout, I was going for a very casual low key dinner with two friends. We went to a place on Montana Avenue in Santa Monica called R + D Kitchen. Now if you have ever been on Montana Ave you know this is a quiet street of shops and restaurants where nothing much happens, and at night it is even quieter. Being that there are not that many places to go at night on Montana Ave, this place is always packed.  

It was a wonderful summer evening with a warm and clear sky. We had finished dinner and were enjoying the evening. Our table was seated by the screened in window by the street on the inside of the restaurant. My two friends were sitting on the inside both and I was opposite them in a chair. We were engaged in conversation and laughter when one of my friends yells, "Oh my god." He yells more, "That huge guy is beating up that little guy." Without thinking I found myself running around obstacles and through people to get outside and then I was there in the middle of it. At that point, this guy whose size did surprise me for a split second (My friends said he looked like Hulk Hogan) had this little guy (who was a doctor) in a head lock and was repeatedly punching him.

Regardless of his size (I am a 6'4" 200 pound man and he had at least 100 pounds on me of muscle building and size) and the fact that he looked like he was on a steroid rage I proceeded to pull them apart. I got them separated and the doctor safely away. The big guy proceeded to take a few swings at me which I avoided and then kept the two apart till the police came. After a period of time, the police handcuffed and arrested the big guy and took him away.

How did this start? Apparently the doctor, while on the phone dealing with urgent patient care situation, had to write something down. In the process, he used the hood of the big guy's car to place his pad down and write. When the big guy objected, the doctor on the call did not recognize his objection quick enough and he proceeded to attack him. Lesson one, people are crazy?

Now, there were 100 men in the restaurant and many much much closer to what was happening than I was and yet no one got there before me, and even worse no one helped me once I did. The doctor was very grateful and people were congratulating me and telling me I was a hero. This was strange to me, I didn't feel like a hero. To me it was as natural as brushing my teeth. I started to reflect why that was. Why was I the only one to jump in? That is where I realized that I have always jumped in and how that reflex partly started.

Growing up on the upper west side of Manhattan in a time where that was not the best of neighborhoods and when the city simply was not safe, violence was part of life. Muggings on our block were so regular, you could set your watch to them. The city in the 70's was broke, the police force was at a minimal and crime was high. It was just the way it was. So the block I lived on formed a block neighborhood association. They wanted to take back our block, at least half of it, the upper part of it was it's own world due to the projects there. What they decided to do was hand everyone on the block a whistle. If you were attacked you were to blow your whistle and if you heard a whistle you were to run outside and blow yours and help.

I loved being part of the fight. When ever I heard a whistle blow I would tear out of my house. Now most people just stayed on their own stoop, not me. I was often first on the scene, not blowing my whistle, but ready to help with what ever was going on. I guess that taught me not to run from trouble, but to run towards it and do something. I have been that way my entire life, never afraid of what life throws at you.

The result of our whistle blowing block was it became one of the safest streets in the neighborhood. After all, why mug someone on our block where everyone will run outside when you can go one block over and not deal with that? That taught me that fighting the good fight is worth it. You can make a difference. When the fight broke out Friday night, I just did what I have always done, I ran towards the whistle. We have become too passive watching what is wrong in the world and in our own lives and not running towards the sounds of the whistle blowing, but standing still or running away from it.

What whistles are blowing in your life? Is your weight blowing that whistle to take action? Is your relationship crying for attention? Is your career screaming for help? Is the passion, fun, joy of your life being attacked? What whistles are blowing in the world around you? Are you standing by, watching the trouble happen, or are you going to jump in and fight back?

The whistles are blowing! It's time to blow or run towards the whistles in our lives and do something. It's time for you to fight the good fight.  I know that at times it seems overwhelming, I know the opponents may look huge, really really huge. No matter how big, they are not as tough as they look.  You can make a difference both in your life and in the world.