The tragedy that didn’t happen

The tragedy that didn’t happen

The journey progressed like any typical trip on London Transport (or TfL, to be PC).  The driver of the southbound train announced that, due to some disruption down the line, there might be delays on the Piccadilly Line.  Having a distinct foreign dialect, the English that I heard from the driver gave me the signal to get up from my seat in the train and head for the nearest Exit sign, in search for an alternative route to work.  Being stuck in Finsbury Park station, I had three travelling alternatives to choose from.

You see, I work for a company in North Finchley, a mere twelve miles away from where I live.  Given that the starting point and the end destination are both located in the London conurbation, it takes me a good hour to get to work, and the same for my homeward journey.  So when people inquire about my occupation, my standard response goes like this: “I work for two hours a day in London Transport, and the rest for my main employer...”.

I decided against my first choice – the Welwyn Garden City British Rail Main Line, as it would mean a twenty minute wait on the platform.  Moving towards the main exit, I decided to head for Seven Sisters Road, where I could hop on any bus moving westwards, whence I planned to catch another bus that goes along a north-western slant, up Holloway Road – destined for Archway Tube Station.

My eyes met a scene that would pass for ordinary, if not for the unordinary figure that broke the landscape.  I beheld the back of a Bochur, standing at the traffic lights, where vehicles were zooming past.  Joining him for the wait, we both looked for the little red man to change, however I quickly realised that our Bochur was waiting for something else; he was visibly nervous, shifting from one foot to the other and, as soon as the coast was clear, he crossed the street.

I purposefully waited for the green man to appear and met our Bochur on the other end, where I now saw him upfront and noticed that he not only shifted his weight, his eyes were blinking at the rate of a manually operated camera. 

Giving him a concerned look, I asked him if he is alright, if he needs to get somewhere, to which he replied that he’s waiting for a car to pass by so that he could catch a lift to Golders Green.  He ventured to explain to me that he knows where the 210 bus is stationed, but he prefers catching a lift as it’s faster than the bus.

This is when a second red light went on in my head: here is a bochur, merely thirteen years old, in Finsbury Park – of all places – the morning after a second night of looting and riots!

I asked him if he had a watch, which he had; I told him to wait only until 9:45, a total of four minutes, for a lift - after which he has to take the bus.

After I verified his name and address, I asked him if he has a mobile, which he didn’t, I bade him farewell and ran to catch a bus which was going in my chosen direction.

Sitting down inside the bus I couldn’t help feeling guilty: here we are, just weeks after the terrible “Leibele” atrocity and this boy is looking for a lift from strangers!  True, he would only accept the favour from a Heimish-looking driver, nevertheless, who could ensure the safety of a boy in such a dangerous area of extremist North London?!

My first reaction was to contact the boy’s mother and apprise her of the situation.  However I had enough time on the remainder of my outbound journey to decide against this course of action.  I reasoned that firstly, the mother might not even be aware that her son is busy spotting lift opportunities in notorious Finsbury Park and secondly, even if she was aware, how can I explain the grave consequences, without running the risk of being labelled a raving lunatic, for suggesting to a Yiddishe Mamme that she doesn’t watch enough over her child?!

If you happen to be young Master W’s mother, living in W’ Road, I hope you are not waiting for your son – only that he is safely ensconced in your home.  Have a safe summer, Menasche Scharf
This Letter to the Editor was sent on 10/08/2011 to Dan Levi, editor of the Jewish Tribune