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Happy birthday Joshua Vincent Longfoot!

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New AHL fight rule puts tough guys on notice

<p>It was the second time this fall I had to wear a jacket. The temperature had dropped drastically within the past week, and the rain only added to the chill.</p><p>I pulled into the restaurant parking lot without incident, found a spot in the muddy, unlined area and shifted the car into park.</p><p>With the radio off, I could hear something faint outside. It was high-pitched, urgent.</p><p>I opened the door and the sound got louder. A wailing.</p><p>I got out of the car and there she was &#8212; a child, wearing only a diaper and a shirt, arms out, eyes shut tight, crying. Hard. Like mucous coming out of her nose hard.</p><p>There are situations in life in which you have time to think. You weigh your options. Sometimes you figure someone else will help, or not helping in certain situations outweighs getting involved. You think you&#8217;ll do better next time; you&#8217;ll be a better person.</p><p>This wasn&#8217;t one of those times.</p><p>My heart jumped as I rushed over to the little girl. She continued her desperate crying while barefoot in the unpaved parking lot. Puddles of mud surrounded her. She couldn&#8217;t have been more than 3 or 4 years old.</p><p>It seems like I read a story about parents overdosing on drugs in front of their children at least once a week. Those stories immediately came to my mind.</p><p>&#8220;What&#8217;s your name? Where do you live? What&#8217;s wrong?&#8221; I couldn&#8217;t get the words out fast enough.</p><p>She was inconsolable, only able to mutter a bit through her tears. I couldn&#8217;t understand a thing she said.</p><p>I pointed to the house adjacent to the parking lot. &#8220;Do you live there?&#8221;</p><p>She just kept crying.</p><p>I opened the hatchback of my car, picked her up and set her inside to get her out of the rain.</p><p>I called 911. It was the only thing I could think to do. I didn&#8217;t want to venture towards strange houses with a half-naked child in the rain. At least an officer could offer some kind of protection and comfort. Stability.</p><p>I explained the situation, gave my location and waited for the cavalry. I thought briefly about what would happen if someone looking for this child were to approach me. What would his or her emotions be? Could this situation become dangerous?</p><p>The girl quieted down once in my car and casually looked around, curious about the interior. My eyes darted around the parking lot, trying to will a police car to show up.</p><p>Just then a man, also barefoot, approached, looking at the child with a sense of recognition.</p><p>&#8220;Why did you leave?&#8221; he asked her. She looked at him and then down at her feet.</p><p>I felt wary about his presence at first. He scooped her up in his arms.</p><p>He said he had run outside his apartment to get something and, when he came back, the door was wide open and his child was missing. He bolted out the door in search of the little one, forgoing shoes.</p><p>&#8220;I was really nervous for about 30 seconds there,&#8221; he said.</p><p>He asked me my name and shook my hand. He said thank you. I told him I called the police.</p><p>I called 911 again and spoke to the same operator. She asked where the man lived so police could follow up.</p><p>All this happened in mere minutes. I was so shaken by the incident, I felt like it had consumed a huge chunk of the day.</p><p>I was still thinking about it later in the day, still physically reacting.</p><p>What could I do? How can I follow up? Should I call the police and ask if they went to the house? Is the girl OK? What&#8217;s her home life like? Was this just an accident? And my cynicism at its best &#8212; was that really her father? Did I give her to a stranger?</p><p>I don&#8217;t have kids &#8212; I don&#8217;t know what it&#8217;s like to be a parent. So I shouldn&#8217;t judge.</p><p>I hope that little girl is OK. I hope I did the right thing.</p><p>There could be lessons to learn here: Don&#8217;t let your kids wander out of the house. Help others when given the chance.</p><p>This gut-wrenching feeling of uncertainty will stay with me for a while.</p><style>
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<div class="neCaption">Sarah Hite Hando Beyond the Byline </div></div><div class="metaInfo"><photo0>https://www.timesleader.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/10/web1_Sarah-Hando.jpg</photo0><caption0>Sarah Hite Hando Beyond the Byline </caption0><photoCredit0></photoCredit0></div></div>
<div class="metaInfo"><bylineMeta><p>By Sarah Hite Hando</p><p>shando@www.timesleader.com</p></bylineMeta></div><div class="metaInfo"><shirttailMeta><p>Reach Sarah Hite Hando at 570-704-3945.</p></shirttailMeta></div>

Beyond the Byline: Sometimes there’s no time to think, only to act