The squeal of brakes,
the crash of collision,
the breaking of glass.
A long moment of silence--
then slamming doors.
Two women frightened and shaking,
avoiding hysteria by pride.
No one hurt.
Happens many times a day
in and around parking lots.
Fenders banged and crash bags opened,
followed by shakes and tears.
On-lookers gasp and gawk,
too frozen to check if anyone is hurt.
A young man pushing grocery carts
back to the rack sprang into action.
He raced to the cars and
checked on both drivers.
He called 911 and got the police to the scene.
He directed traffic around
the wrecked automobiles.
When the police cruiser arrived,
he talked to the drivers and calmed them.
Off to the store to return
with bottles of water for the drivers.
He directed the wrecking trucks
to the access drive and finally
helped the thankful drivers into the trucks.
His store badge identified him as Will.
Well, Will the Willing,
had been noticed by many folks.
The grocery clerk who knew to respond.
His deeds grew as the story was told and retold.
Store management was informed of his deeds
and were most pleased about his actions.
Willing Will became an urban legend.
Friends of the accident victim
and the victims themselves
looked for a name tag “Will.”
One day such a tag was spotted.
"How may Wills work here" was asked.
"There used to be several,
but now I am the only one."
"The Will I am looking for is
the hero of a recent accident
in the access to the parking lot."
"It was me.”
Congratulations and praise
were heaped on Willing Will.
But best of all,
he did not use the predicate nominative!
There is hope for the world
if ordinary people
who use ordinary language
do extraordinary deeds.
Doug Minnis
September 2009