Compassion

The grim daylight drifted through the window and illuminated the thin layer of dust covering everything in my tiny office. I was sitting at my desk, captivated with the CNN coverage of Haiti's earthquake. I quickly pulled out my cell phone and texted a $10 donation to the Red Cross. It was the fifth time in two days. I wish I could do more, but in lieu of anything else, donating some cash always helps.

As I took a break for lunch, I bumped into a woman on the sidewalk in front of the Globe building. She gave me an icy stare... particularly icy. She struck me as the kind of a woman who wears a coat in the winter to keep the warmth out.

Through a fluke of luck, I managed to win about $200 last night at poker. It was already gone. I had texted $50 to the Red Cross, written a $100 check to Compassion International, and I had already owed $50 to Mike Tanner. Somehow, I figured that would end up with the Red Cross as well...

I tried in vain to find something to keep me busy through the afternoon. I answered a few e-mails, caught up with an old High School friend, but in the end I couldn't pull myself from those heartcrushing pictures from Haiti. I thought about going, but I don't have any special skills they need. I have no medical training, no military experience. I walked down to my local Red Cross office to see what I could do. They were already overloaded with would-be volunteers.

I donated a pint of blood and wrote a $200 check.

I know people come here to read the supposedly exciting exploits of a private eye. I try to keep you amused, but some things in life are too important. If you've got $10 (and who doesn't? $10= 2 packs of cigarettes, 1 good cigar, 4 gallons of gas, a fast food lunch for two, or an evening at the movies alone.), get off your ass and text "Haiti" to 90999.