Rich Man in SUV Blocks Ambulance in Traffic Unaware His Son Is inside — Story of the Day

After a traumatic event in childhood, Taylor grew to mistrust doctors so much that he wouldn't move when an ambulance was trying to get through a traffic jam. But he soon discovered how easily he could've lost everything for being so stubborn.

"We need to hire a nanny, darling. I can't handle three kids, my job, and the house," Taylor's wife Polly said when they finished dinner and the kids returned to their rooms.

"A nanny? They're so expensive, and it's not worth it," Taylor replied, shaking his head. He rose from their dining table and went to the living room couch.

"Please, Taylor. I have meetings in the afternoon, and even if they're a bit older now, the kids still need attention. I can't do it alone anymore," Polly begged.

"No, you're lying. But even if you're not, taking him to the doctor won't do any good. I'm not moving," Taylor said unapologetically.

Taylor grunted. He didn't like the idea at all. He also didn't believe that his wife couldn't handle everything. Her job isn't even real, he thought, but he would never say it aloud.

"No, it's too expensive," he refused again.

"We have tons of money," Polly insisted desperately.

"Just because we have money doesn't mean we have to spend it on unnecessary things. My mother raised me on her own for as long as she could, and then I handled myself because my father didn't care. And look at me! I grew up to be a millionaire. They don't need a nanny. Just tell them to behave after school," Taylor said, his tone unyielding.

Polly sighed and left him alone. Their children's ages ranged between nine and five years old, so they could handle themselves while their mother worked. At least, that's what Taylor thought. Polly was a writer and worked from home. It wasn't as complex as going to the office, doing paperwork, meeting with clients, arranging proposals, and everything else he did.

He scoffed at the idea of a nanny. Kids need to be raised by their parents only. That's how I succeeded in the world, he thought to himself again, and he didn't have a single regret about refusing his wife's request.

A few days later, Polly fainted in the middle of the living room, and her eldest kid, Mark, called Taylor at the office. "Should I call 911?" the boy asked.

"No! Absolutely not," Taylor replied. "Call Mara. Her number is next to the home phone. I'll be there soon. Taylor added before rushing home.

Mara was their neighbor, a kind nurse who worked nights. He barely trusted her, but she was definitely better than any doctor. By the time Taylor got home, Polly was awake, and Mara was checking her. The kids surrounded their mother, worried.

"So, how is she?" Taylor asked.

"Let's speak in the kitchen," Mara said briskly, almost pulling him. "I think Polly needs to see a doctor. Fainting is not normal for a young woman."

"We're hardly young. She's 35, and I'm 38." Taylor shook his head.

"That's young, Taylor. She could have anemia. She needs blood work and a check-up," Mara insisted.

"Nope. No. Absolutely not," he refused, crossing his arms.

"Look, I know you distrust doctors for some reason, but she needs one, or it could happen again. Your kids are scared. Please, listen," Mara continued, staring at him intensely.

"We'll get the blood work, but no doctors. My mother died because an incompetent idiot didn't find her cancer. He misdiagnosed her, so I grew up with my abusive father only because she didn't get treatment in time," Taylor revealed. No one but Polly knew about that. "We had home births because of that, Mara. And our kids are thriving."

Mara sighed. "Alright. Get the blood tests, and I'll have a friend check them for suggestions. But you need to get over your fear at some point."

Just as Mara suspected, Polly had a bit of anemia, but after some medication, she seemed to get better. After that episode, she asked Taylor if they could finally get a nanny, but he still refused.

"No, you're better. It's a waste. Money should be saved for only important things. Who knows what could happen? I'm the CEO of an oil company, but what if I have to become a minimum worker later?" Taylor justified.

Polly didn't ask again.

***

"I'm late for a meeting. Don't call me because I won't answer today!" Taylor yelled out as he rushed out of the house one morning. He was meeting a huge client and wanted to arrive on time. However, the universe had other plans because there was a massive traffic jam on his usual route to the office, and the minutes dragged on forever.

He hit the wheel and shook his head impatiently, waiting for anything to happen. But it was a complete standstill until he heard the sound of sirens from the back. Taylor eyed his rearview mirror and saw cars moving to the side, giving way to an ambulance.

"Ah, hell no! They're not getting out of this traffic jam by pretending to have patients!" Taylor shook his head and refused to move his vehicle as others had. The ambulance honked and honked, but he pretended nothing was happening.

But Taylor felt like he was still in hell.

The driver on the other lane rolled down his window. "Hey, man! Move for the ambulance!" he said, but Taylor ignored him.

Finally, he saw the ambulance driver, an old man, rushing to his side. "Sir, please move! I have a kid in the back who needs urgent care!" the driver said.

"No, you're lying. But even if you're not, taking him to the doctor won't do any good. I'm not moving," Taylor said unapologetically.

"Are you serious, man?" the driver asked, shocked.

"Yeah. I won't move!"

"This is illegal!" the driver said.

"Sue me. Or call the cops," Taylor shrugged, not even looking at the man now. He stared straight ahead, waiting for the traffic to move finally.

"I hope no one you love is ever in this boy's shoes," the driver said, spitting on the ground beside his car in disdain. He got back on the ambulance and maneuvered his way through a sidewalk, and other vehicles let him pass.

After another 15 minutes of traffic, the roads cleared, and Taylor arrived at the office building in the nick of time. His client had just started speaking when his phone rang. He saw Polly's name flash across the screen but ignored the call right away. I told her not to call, he thought, as he listened to the client.

However, Polly called again and again and again until a message popped up: "Mark is in the hospital! Call me ASAP!"

"Hospital?" he whispered, staring at his phone intently.

"Mr. Brown?" one of his executives said.

"Roger, handle this meeting. My son is in the hospital. I have to go," Taylor said and rushed out of their meeting.

His whole body shook. Polly was well aware of his distaste for doctors, so it would take a real emergency for her to take their son to the hospital. He knew this was bad. Taylor called her, got the hospital's name, and drove there quickly. Luckily, there were no other traffic jams like that morning.

He didn't even notice where he parked his car. He only rushed through the emergency doors, asked nurses to help him, and finally met Polly outside the operating room where family members usually waited. His other kids, Jason and Mona, were holding her legs in fear.

"What happened? Where is Mark?" Taylor asked, distraught.

"He's in surgery right now. Taylor, darling. It was bad. His head was bleeding," Polly explained as she cried, and his younger kids started crying too.

Taylor had to compose himself and hugged his family tightly. "It's OK. It's OK. Everything will be alright. Mark is in good hands," he almost chanted. He was trying to convince himself.

A few hours later, a surgeon finally came out. They all stood with their hearts in their throats, waiting for the news.

"The surgery went well. Your son is recovering in the ICU. We won't know more about his situation until he wakes up, but the margins look good," the physician said, nodding. "We're moving him now. But we'll let you know when you can see him."

Polly knelt as her emotions took over her, telling her kids their big brother had made it. Meanwhile, Taylor moved toward the doctor and pressed for more details.

"Be straight with me, Doc. Is Mark really alright?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, he is, sir," the physician nodded again. "But it's only because he got here in time. We heard about the crazy traffic jam earlier, and if they had taken longer, we might be having a different conversation."

Taylor said nothing as the doctor patted his shoulder and returned to the operating area, where non-patients were prohibited. Traffic jam? he thought, surprised.

He turned to his wife, who had calmed down somewhat. "Polly, you were in the traffic jam this morning?"

"Oh yeah. I was so worried. It was not moving at all for some time. The driver even got out and, apparently, fought with someone who refused to move their car. Who does that?" Polly explained, scoffing at the idea that someone wouldn't move over for emergencies. "But the driver got in, road the ambulance through a sidewalk or something – I was scared for a second – but he got us here as quickly as he could. What a champ."

Polly didn't see or notice how quiet Taylor had become. "Kids, let's go get some snacks from the vending machine. We'll have to wait some more to see your brother," she urged, looking back at her husband.

Taylor had to clear his throat. "Go. I'll stay here just in case."

"Alright," she smiled a bit now that the immediate danger was gone.

But Taylor felt like he was still in hell. He plopped on one of the seats and stared at the wall. He had delayed the ambulance, while his son was almost dying inside. Mark would not be here if the driver hadn't been so smart.

"Oh, yeah. My wife needs help," Taylor nodded and smiled as he stared out his car's window.

Tears burst from his eyes involuntarily. His chest constricted as his breaths came too quickly, and finally, he placed his head on his hands and cried. The realization that this was all his fault was too much to bear. He had refused a nanny, refused to move for an ambulance, and ignored his wife's calls.

"Taylor," Polly whispered when she returned and hugged him. "Kids, come hug your Daddy."

The youngest ones embraced him as he tried to stop his sobs, but it was hard.

"Mark will wake up soon, Daddy," his daughter, the youngest of their brood, said in her high, precious little voice, finally calming him. Nothing would take away this guilt, but he eventually stopped weeping heavily.

***

They visited Mark an hour later, and the boy woke up. The doctors checked his motor skills, and everything was alright. He even spoke a little before falling asleep again. His surgeon said he was fine and told the family they would move him from the ICU to a standard room soon. Mark was officially out of danger.

Once his boy was placed in a normal room and safely surrounded by his family, Taylor went out and talked to one of the nurses, requesting to see the person who drove the ambulance.

"Oh, that's James. You'll probably find him outside where most of the ambulances are parked when they're not dispatched," a nurse kindly told him, and Taylor went out.

He found James immediately, and despite the rush and everything that morning, the old man recognized Taylor.

"Wait a minute. Aren't you the guy who wouldn't move his car?" James accused, pointing his finger at Taylor. But Taylor didn't stop approaching him and raised his arms to wrap the old man in a hug. James didn't like that and tried to pry him off until Taylor spoke.

"I'm sorry. Thank you. Thank you for doing your best. It was my son. You were bringing my son here, and I… I was such an idiot. I'm so sorry. I could've lost everything," Taylor said, and the old man relented, patting Taylor's back.

"How is the kid?"

"He's good. He woke up," Taylor said, pulling and wiping a tear. "He's resting again, but the doctor said he would recover. Thanks to you."

"I only did my job, sir. But I'm glad. I used to be a paramedic. Now I only drive, but I'm glad he's safe," James nodded.

"Why are you still working?" Taylor wondered. "If it's not too much to ask."

"My wife needs surgery for her hip. In this economy, retiring is not really an option anymore. Sadly, being an ambulance driver doesn't pay much, but it helps," James sighed.

"Would you be interested in changing fields?" Taylor suggested out of the blue.

"What do you mean?"

"How about you become my driver?" he suggested, explaining where he worked and how much he would pay. It was more than triple what the old man made.

"Is this a real offer?"

"100%," Taylor insisted. "I may be an idiot, but I don't lie about business."

The old man thought about it some more and finally agreed. He worked for two more weeks at the hospital but became Taylor's driver after. The rich man didn't realize how convenient it was not to worry about driving until then.

He and Polly also needed help once Mark got out of the hospital, so James ran errands, went grocery shopping, watched the kids whenever possible, and drove Taylor everywhere. After a few months, the old man had enough money for his wife Helena's surgery.

Taylor gave James all the paid leave he needed and visited them at the hospital. Once James' wife got better, he came up with another idea.

"James, how would you feel about Helena working for us as a nanny? Would she like that?" Taylor wondered from the back seat. James looked at him briefly and nodded.

"She would love that. She loves kids. We never had any. It wasn't in God's plans for us, but she would love it. Would you really hire her, sir?" James asked, grateful.

"Oh, yeah. My wife needs help," Taylor said and smiled as he stared out his car's window.

He realized after Mark's accident that there was no reason to have money if you didn't use it to help your family. You had to enjoy all your hard work and make your family happy. Furthermore, his disdain for doctors was gone completely.

He still resented the one who didn't diagnose his mother well, but one person's negligence shouldn't reflect on the entire field. Everyone, including the ambulance driver, had worked hard to save Mark, and they did a fantastic job.

Taylor became a benefactor of the hospital, giving grants so kids from lower-income families could get surgeries. Meanwhile, James and Helena continued to work for his family, and the kids adored them. Polly was thriving at work and no longer fainted.

And Taylor was always the first to move over when an ambulance passed by the road. He would never make that mistake again.

What can we learn from this story?

• A childhood trauma shouldn't define your whole life and how you act.
• Helping people and ensuring your family is happy is more important than saving money.

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If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a rich man who mocked a poor window cleaner, not knowing the man was a single father of two girls.

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