peach - 2006.09.04: caladesi island, dunedin, fl

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The Good (Grief) Samaritan

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Foreword

The Good (Grief) Samaritan


Old retired banker opens letter addressed to his young wife, Morgan Davis. Handwritten note reads, "Dear Morgan, I was nearly swept away when I spotted you from a distance. Though I barely got to know you, I will never forgot you for the rest of my life. I'm sorry I left so suddenly after I woke up. Thank you... CM"

Suspicious Mr. Davis confronts his wife about this and she completely denies knowing anything.

When a few days later, old Mr. Davis still cannot get over his wife's extramarital affairs, he calls up his lawyer friend and gets the ball rolling for divorce. Mrs. Davis tries her best to reason with him and has a nervous breakdown when she finds he wants a divorce.

At least, she'll get to keep this beautiful house and her private beach since her husband had transferred ownership to her as a gift on their 10th wedding anniversary last year. Poor Mr. Davis. He's losing everything - his lovely wife, their gorgeous house, his own mind...


The winds were cold, the waves unnegotiable. I could barely see the shoreline in this weather as I paddled against the current to get back into Whale's Pass. Having kayaked for over six hours, I had no strength left. A final gust of wind turned my kayak around and a six-foot wave whiplashed me. I knew it was over. Is this how it all ends? Suddenly, from the corner of my eye I spotted a figure moving 200 yards away, as if waving at me. With my last few remaining breaths, I pushed back the waves and moved towards the figure. As I drew closer, I knew that person had spotted me and was already knee-deep in the water, waiting for me to get closer. Last thing I remember before I fainted was extending my hand when I was about four yards away from him.

When I regained consciousness, I found myself on someone's driveway at the intersection of Main Street and Pinegate Drive. Every town has a Main Street I chuckled. I turned my head slightly and noticed my rescuer rushing into his house. I stood up and saw my kayak lying on the beach across the street. I heard voices coming from the inside the house. Realizing how completely stupid I was kayaking in such bad weather and not wanting to explain my foolhardiness to whoever it was that saved my life, I ran half a mile down Pinegate Drive to where I had parked my car. I drove back to Main Street and looked around to make sure nobody was waiting to check up on me. Once I was certain that my car couldn't be seen from inside the house, I strapped my kayak on my car, and sped away! Was I glad to be alive and homebound!


Sitting on my computer, uploading some crazy pictures from the day's kayaking adventure, I couldn't help but think about my rescuer.

Using an online mapping tool and some obscure county tax website that had the address information listed, I found the homeowner's name and decided to let him know how much I appreciated what he did for me. It had been a while since I wrote a letter instead of email, so I figured I could be a little dramatic and may I say, poetic? He was after all, my Good Samaritan.

"Dear Morgan, I was nearly swept away when I spotted you from a distance. Though I barely got to know you, I will never forgot you for the rest of my life. I'm sorry I left so suddenly after I woke up. Thank you... CM"


Shortest Version


Old guy saved me. I knew where he lived from the street names. I looked up his name and address online. Turns out the house was in his wife's name, Morgan. I sent a note addressed to Morgan thinking it was the old guy. He files for divorce suspecting she is cheating on him. He will lose his wife and house. No good deed goes unpunished.