Now that the Fairfax strike is over it is safe to link to my latest column (submitted and published pre-strike I want to briefly note):
You yelled but exactly what you called out was lost in our memory of the night. And, you see, there had also been all this shouting we heard from the happy drunken kids who, as it turned out, must have passed by you in the dark. Even I don’t know how long you were there. All I know is that you became disorientated, and realising what was happening you crashed through my neighbour’s fence to fall on your knees, as though praying. With rising panic you shouted out once more with a strong but tight voice.
I was in my house and I assumed you were one of the drunk kids, but I felt uneasy. Thinking a person is drunk when they really need help has happened before. There was this incident I read about involving the celebrated opera singer, Delmae Barton where she had a stroke and lay semi-conscious at a busy bus stop for hours before being rescued. Many people passed by concluding she was drunk and ignored her. The story is even more depressing than that, Barton is Aboriginal and surely racist stereotypes played a part in all the inaction she encountered
Some of you long-term readers of this blog might remember when I talked about this incident here at the time that it happened.
blue milk 
Wonderful writing and very evocative. I recently tried to help a woman who had fallen in the street. I didn’t realise she was drunk and in the end, she emphatically did not want my help. I was with my two small children and after the fact felt very foolish for risking their safety to help a stranger (I even invited her into my home!) but it felt like the right thing to do at the time.
I had a similar experience with a neighbour who has epilepsy. Some friends had seen her falling and thought she might be drunk or on drugs. Luckily I have a son with epilepsy and could help my neighbour until the ambulance arrived. I knew that people are often very disorientated after having had a seizure. But it was hard work stopping her from walking off. She seemed embarrassed to have fallen over and very angry with us for the implication that she couldn’t look after herself. I went home knowing that I had done the right thing but feeling unappreciated. The whole experience made me think deeply about what it means to have one of these invisible disabilities as an independent adult, knowing that there are times you might need the help and understanding of complete strangers.
This is so beautiful. So glad you shared it. Xox
After studying the bystander effect at Uni, I realised one evening I was in the middle of it – I was watching a man and woman argue, increasingly violently, and saying ‘someone should do something’. So I changed it to ‘ I will call the police’. Went to the bar for a phone (pre-mobiles!) and the bouncer went out to intervene. And it petered out. And perhaps both parties felt intruded on. But I’m still glad I did it.