The Last Cab Ride

The following was sent to me by KSB board member Tom Suits.  I immediately thought of sharing it with my KSB family.  Thanks Tom!

Last Cab Ride

I arrived at the address and honked the horn.  After waiting a few minutes I honked
 Since this was going to be my last ride of
my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park
and walked up to the door and knocked.
‘Just a minute’, answered a frail, elderly voice.
I could hear something being dragged across the floor.
After a long pause, the door opened.  A small woman in her 90’s stood before me.
 She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like
somebody out of a 1940’s movie.
By her side was a small nylon suitcase.  The apartment looked as if no one had
lived in it for years.
 All the furniture was covered with sheets.
 There were no clocks on the walls, no
knickknacks or utensils on the counters.
 In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and
‘Would you carry my bag out to the car?’ she said.
I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.
 She took my arm and we walked slowly
toward the curb.
 She kept thanking me for my kindness.  ‘It’s nothing’, I told her.  ‘I just try to treat my passengers the way I would
want my mother to be treated.’
‘Oh, you’re such a good boy, she said.  When we got in the cab, she gave me an
address and then asked, ‘Could you drive through downtown?’
 ‘It’s not the shortest way,’ I answered quickly. ‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ she said.  ‘I’m in no hurry.  I’m on my way to a hospice.
I looked in the rear-view mirror.  Her eyes were glistening.  ‘I don’t have any family left,’ she
continued in a soft
voice.’  The doctor says I don’t have very long.’  I quietly reached over and shut off the
‘What route would you like me to take?’  I asked.
For the next two hours, we drove through the city.  She showed me the building where she had
once worked as an elevator operator.
drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they
were Newlyweds
.  She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse
that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.
Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building
or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.
As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly
said, ‘I’m tired.
 Let’s go now’.
We drove in silence to the address she had given me.  It was a low building, like a small convalescent
home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.
Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up.  They were solicitous and intent, watching
her every move.
 They must have been expecting her.
I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door.  The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.
‘How much do I owe you?’  She asked, reaching into her purse.  ‘Nothing,’  I
‘You have to make a living,’  she
 ‘There are other passengers,’  I responded.
Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto
me tightly.
‘You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,’ she said.  ‘Thank you.’
I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.  Behind me, a door shut.  It was the sound of the closing of a life.
I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift.  I drove aimlessly lost in thought.  For the rest of that day, I could hardly
 What if that woman had gotten an angry
driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift?
 What if I had refused to take the run, or
had honked once, then driven away?
On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more
important in my life. 
We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great
But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in
what others may consider a small one.
At the bottom of this great story was a request to forward this –
I deleted that request because if you have read to this point, you won’t have
to be asked to pass it along you just will…Thank you, my friend…
Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we are here we
might as well dance.


  • Jason Brusky
    Posted at 15:08h, 23 April Reply

    Thanks for sharing

  • Destiny G.
    Posted at 15:09h, 23 April Reply

    This was so touching! I will be passing it along. Thank you for sharing this!

  • Anonymous
    Posted at 16:57h, 23 April Reply

    Thanks for reminding me to take time to enjoy every minute we have on this earth – life is too short to be in such a hurry

  • Anonymous
    Posted at 19:07h, 02 May Reply

    You made me cry in the middle of my shift.

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