Recently, I had a lucky encounter with bikers. I am an elderly man living in Phillips and although I can drive, I have to use a walker. As I prepared to go pick up mail at the Post Office, I noticed that one tire on my vehicle looked a bit low. The Post Office is next to Edmunds Market, a large grocery that also sells gasoline and has a coin-operated compressor for motorists.

After getting my mail, I moved my car close to the compressor, got the walker out and, as I unfolded it, a woman from a group of four or five bikers on the other side of the parking lot came across and asked if I could use some help. I said that tire (pointing) needs air and she said she would do it. I got two quarters from my change purse, then noticed that the compressor required four. I told her that I would go get change from the grocery, but she told me to wait a minute. She walked across the lot, got two quarters from a male biker, came back and pumped up the tire. It took a lot of air.

I thanked her, did my shopping, got some change and came back out, but they were were gone.

Who said chivalry is dead?

Gerry Morgan, Phillips

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