<p>All wonderful stories!! I found a fellow’s wallet at the airport in an area near baggage claim. It had a drivers license and school ID (photos) so I scoured the Atlanta airports baggage claim areas til I found him (no small feat). He was sooo thankful, but I confess I too, probably did a little “you should be more careful” commentary (just a little, I promise).</p>
<p>I had a really, really weird event last week. I was in the Pentagon for a meeting, and was waiting in the visitor’s area for my person to come get me, and 40 minutes early with nothing to do. Happily, my cell rang, giving me the opportunity to say “I’m sorry, I can’t give the matter my full attention now, I’m at the Pentagon for a meeting, but when I’m free later today I’ll call you back.” It felt so cool to say “I’m at the Pentagon”, and I could pretend to be very important, so, I decided to sit in this one area where I got excellent cell reception, so that hopefully my phone would ring again and again. Had a perfect up close view of the inbound visitors who were being met by
Pentagon people. So I sat there and watched the people interacting while hoping my phone would ring a LOT more. At one point, a woman with a UK accent, clearly a visitor asked her escort “is it all right if I go to the ladies room” and her escort said yes. </p>
<p>Some time later, I got bored watching the people and my phone wasn’t ringing. I thought about placing calls so I could sound important again, but decided I didn’t need to act that stupid. But I was still bored. So I decided if that other lady was allowed to go to the restroom, surely I was too. So off I went to find the restroom. Found it, decided to put on more lipstick, etc., so went to the sink counter. And found a passport laying there. </p>
<p>No one else was in the bathroom, so, I brushed my hair and goofed off for a few minutes. Then I picked up the passport and left the bathroom. Looked around, and suddenly the line at the visitor’s counter was very long. I couldn’t figure on getting through that line to ask “where is the lost and found” in < 30 minutes. I looked around other areas, and couldn’t find anything that looked like an official office, or anyone to ask. There was a small gift shop, but the staff could only direct me back to the visitor’s check in area. </p>
<p>I finally looked inside the passport, and realized it was the woman from the UK who asked her escort if she could use the bathroom. I reasoned that the best thing to do would be to go stand by the bathroom door - as soon as she realized she lost her passport, she’d go back to where she thought she left it, right? </p>
<p>So I stand by the bathroom door. She doesn’t reappear. After several minutes of this, I start to feel REALLY stupid. I’m standing like a sentry by a bathroom door (in the P of all places) and I’m the only person who knows why. If there are cameras, this has got to look really weird, I think.</p>
<p>But then I get lucky. In a group of people I see the woman who was the escort to the woman who lost the passport. So I go up to her, and ask her if I may offer her the passport, as it appears to be the same person she was hosting. She admits the person is her visitor, but, to my amazement, tells me she is not authorized to accept the passport. I’m like, huh??? So she tells me something about government employee not authorized to accept or hold civilian documents and that I am going to have to hold the passport. </p>
<p>Not believing this, I said “well, is there a lost & found”. She looked at me as if I were REALLY stupid, and said something like, “ma’am this is the Pentagon” (as if I could have forgotten) and there is no such thing as a lost & found.</p>
<p>I then said something about maybe the best thing for me to do would be to put the passport back on the sink counter in the bathroom. But the woman said I wasn’t authorized to be in the bathroom. I wanted to ask why was a UK citizen allowed and not a U.S. citizen, and furthermore the bathroom was right there and accessible, not under guard and not in a classified area, but, it didn’t seem like a good idea to get into an argument with this woman. </p>
<p>This is too long of story to type I’m just now realizing, but, what ended up happening is my escort arrived and I had to go on to my meeting WITH the passport. I did ask him to help me resolve, but he said we had a tight agenda and could not spare the time, and when my meeting concluded “someone” would help. </p>
<p>Seven hours later, when both of our meetings concluded, Pentagon people connected the woman with me, and she got her passport back. To my great relief she was not inconvenienced as her meeting ran as long as mine and in fact she had another one scheduled right behind her first meeting, but, I’ve learned my lesson and never ever again will I pick up something that doesn’t belong to me, at least not in a place like that.</p>
<p>latetoschool - that is just one of the funniest things I have read in a while. You should send it to readers digest or something.</p>
<p>My story is a fun one…we were taking the train back from Cambridge University to London…train pulled into a station…a woman got up to leave the train…and I saw her wallet left behind on the bench…so I grabbed it and yelled “your wallet” and amazingly she turned around and looked right at me…and I threw the wallet out the doors as they shut tight and the train took off…she gave me the biggest grin as she caught it…and the rest of the passengers were all a bit stunned…it all happened soo quick… I still can’t believe how fast it all happened…it definitely felt like a divine hand had a hand in it!</p>
<p>I have a story (beyond my crazy s’s story 
) Last year, I was in London with my sister. We needed some cash so we found an outdoor ATM. There was a young family in line before us and he was having some difficulty with the ATM, he didn’t speak English, but I didn’t want to get involved (especially with somebody trying to navigate an ATM), so I stood back and tried to ignore him. Finally, his wife encouraged him to move on, he reluctantly did, and they started walking down the street with their kids. When I got up to the screen, I read that he had not finished the transaction, I pushed the button and his cash started coming out. I grabbed it and ran down the street, found him, and handed him the money, pointing back to the ATM. He was amazed! And, I felt wonderful!! </p>
<p>The old adage holds true - that it is better to give than to receive 
!!!</p>
<p>Beautiful story! Most definitely an angel involved in this!</p>
<p>Great thread. I hope it keeps going for a long time, with LOTS of similar stories.</p>
<p>When our kids were tykes, we were travelling–hubby was on business (attending a convention) & I had one kid in the babypack & the other in the stroller, plus diaper bag & the whole collection of “stuff” you have when you’re with kids in a city FAR from home. Hubby had a day free & offered to come with us, so we went to the zoo. I told him I’d be in charge of the kids & he just had to handle all our bags & “stuff.” We had a great outing & got back to our hotel happy but tired when we got a phone call, “Did we lose a black waistpack, because they found our hotel card in it?” I looked at hubby & asked him where my waistpack was amid the “stuff” he coralled & he gave me a blank stare. I said, “Yes, we actually were missing a waistpack.” A couple came to our hotel, dropped off the waistpack & disappeared, refusing a reward, our effusive thanks echoing in their ears.</p>
<p>My mom went to Mexico with my dad & his two buddies. She held all of their passports, money & valuables in her purse & LEFT IT IN THE BUS! They didn’t realize this until after they had gotten off the bus. They frantically rushed to the bus station, who was very discouraging & said they’d never find it. Lo & behold, when the bus returned to the station, they rushed into the bus & found her purse with everything intact! </p>
<p>More recently, I attended a great college volleyball game. The next day, I couldn’t find my cell phone anywhere & with a sinking feeling concluded it must have fallen out of my slacks pocket the day before. I called the arena where the game had been & Lost & Found had recovered a cell phone. I was going to a college basketball game that evening at the same arena & was able to recover the phone. Whew!</p>
<p>There were definitely angels involved in these events & we are blessed!</p>
<p>These are great stories! I think there must be a lot of people like me out there, people whose self-esteem is greatly tied to the belief that, despite our many failings, we are essentially “good people”, people who will go out of our way to help others. If I found someone’s wallet, I would be desperate to reunite it, fully intact, with its rightful owner, even if it takes me well out of my way, and costs me some time and perhaps even some money. I would be imagining the anguish of the person missing such a valuable personal possession, and wanting to relieve that horrible feeling as soon as possible. I wasn’t raised to believe in anything like Karma, but I do believe with all my heart that what you put out there will come back to you, and if it’s bad, it’ll come back in spades. I believe that most of us here at CC would do the right thing, and with joy in our hearts.</p>
<p>I have met mostly very good & kind people in my life (tho of course I know & have met some who aren’t–somehow it always surprises me). I like to think our expectations have some effect on our life experiences.</p>
<p>My D has left her shoes on my car once & dad drove away & her shoes were never recovered. She also left her shoes on my car once–fortunately after taking her to school, I retraced my route & was able to find both shoes. She is my Cinderella. <grin></grin></p>
<p>It was a typical December day in the Gotham City, just before Christmas. The atmosphere was electrifing for a westcoast, 14 year old, visiting older brother, recently minted from the ivy halls of Princeton. A fresh economist and working at the Federal Reserve, Wall Street, Gotham. </p>
<p>As we were walking down the marbled steps of the FRB, a gentleman, who was walking up the steps, spied upon us. He immediately stop and took a closer examination but at a closer distance. As we descended the steps and finally reached him, the gentleman asked us if were sons of [name]. We answered a bit suspiciously that we were, and he said that I (the younger son) looked exactly like my father at that age. We didn’t understand because our parents were immigrants and were in their mid 40’s, which meant that he knew my parents 30 years previously in the old country, and during war. He promptly wrote us a $300 check (1964 dollars) and said that my father had lent him this money. He said that this was his address on the check and wrote down his phone number. We shook hands and parted. All this happend in just a few minutes. </p>
<p>When I returned home, I was told that this gentleman was my father’s best friend and middle school roommate. They had lost track of each other when my father attended med school and when the city was being occupied. We had no idea why he was at the FRB since he was a social worker.</p>
<p>itssomuch…that is an incredible story. Wow…keep going folks. I think we are writing the next best seller!</p>
<p>OK, my second story (not quite angelic and not quite a stranger, but . . . )- </p>
<p>One day, coming home from work, when I got off the commuter train and back to my car, I reached into my pocket and took out the keys - they weren’t mine! Lucky for me at least, I had my keys in my purse, so I got into the car and went home. But what about the other set? Where did they come from? Nothing identifiable. </p>
<p>Except – a CVS frequent buyer tag. So I called the 800 number for CVS, gave them the tag number, and they ID’d the owner. Of course, they wouldn’t tell me who, but they took my phone number and notified the owner. Well, on the train, I usually sit at a seat next to a table (seats 6 around the table). I often have dropped my keys onto the table and scoop them up when I leave. Turns out that morning that I had replaced my own keys in my purse earlier in the trip, and as a creature of habit, I accidentally scooped up her keys instead of mine! Of course, it was a Friday, so not just as simple as meeting in the morning - we arranged a meeting place and I gave her back the keys.</p>
<p>Moral of the story, though - if you have those convenience card tags on your key ring, you may get lost keys back!</p>
<p>itssomuch - what an awesome story, does your dad stay in touch with the old friend now? What divine intervention that he saw ya’ll on that day, at that time, at that place! </p>
<p>And, chevda, imagine how happy that lady was when CVS called. If I lost my keys, I’d be a basket case!! You made her day!!</p>
<p>My Dad still enjoys telling this story especially when he has his grandson around. </p>
<p>There is an unhappy ending. My folks and brother kept intouch with him. Not too many years after the unbelieveable meeting, my brother called to tell us the he had committed suicide. He had cheated on his wife early on of his marriage, and his wife shunned him. He loved his family and eventually the lack of love from his wife, drove him to the ultimate of depression. I do not know why he did not get a divorce.</p>
<p>There is perhaps a Devine hand in our timeline. But there are two Devines we can recognize. I for one, have a hard time distinquishing between the two. To those who profess in recognition, beware.</p>
<p>Yay for miracles! For him to have found something so small on a road is truly a miracle (and that the phone didn’t fall off, too).</p>
<p>As a New Yorker, I want to scream when I read things like this:
“There are wonderful people around (even in NY)!”</p>
<p>I didn’t grow up here. I’ve lived all over the world. I’d be the first to admit that there are a lot of bad people in NYC–simply because there are a lot of all sorts of people in New York. But there are–for the same reason—a lot of good people in New York.</p>
<p>Years ago now, there was a fire which destroyed several apartments in my neighborhood. A man who looked well…homeless…is being polite…set up a box to donate. When people like me asked him why he was minding the donation box, he actually said…“This is NY. If nobody watches it, it’ll be gone by morning.” One of my neighbors asked how many children and of what ages were living in the destroyed apartments. He answered. I noticed that several folks in the crowd were listening.</p>
<p>By morning, every tenant who was burned out had three months rent. All the kids had full wardrobes, so they were able to go to school. </p>
<p>I love this city–and the people who live here. There are a LOT of con artists here, so maybe when folks here a sob story…we’re a little tougher than most. But when we know it’s true…</p>
<p>NYers are the BEST!!!</p>
<p>jonri, i think she was kidding ;)</p>
<p>My family (parents, three siblings, and I) were visiting relatives in Spain in 1973 and did a bit of touring on our own. We had arrived back at auntie’s house near Madrid and my mom realized our passports were no longer in her purse. The last time she remembered having them in her hand was leaving a hotel in a little town that was probably five hours away, early that morning. She had checked out of the hotel while my dad was loading the car, tossed a stack of postcards in a mailbox, and we went on our way. </p>
<p>They made phone calls back to the hotel and offered a reward, but the passports simply were not to be found. They finally realized that mom must have dropped them in the mailbox with the postcards. This was back in the Franco days, and it was especially hard for foreigners to get things done back then, but the next day somehow my uncle got someone to let us into the central post office in Madrid, the sorting point for all the mail in that region, and we all spent most of the day going through mountains of mail until we finally found all of our passports.</p>