The things you do out of boredom.

     Out of boredom and curiosity, I looked up someone's profile on Facebook. It wasn't a lost love or anything.
     Back in 1997, I went to a bar up in Port Huron. I think it was called George's. I parked my car across the street and walked into George's. As I was doing so, heard scuffling coming from the alley behind the Roche Bar (a local landmark). I saw a big guy pummeling the shit out of a smaller guy. At this point he power-bombed him (a slamming move often seen on wrestling).
     I went into George's and told them to call the cops (life without smartphones).
I went back across the street with another guy (Mitch).
     We went into the alley and saw the big guy holding the smaller guy against the wall, with his fist raised.
     At that moment I blurted out "Back the fuck off of him!" He did so, and came for us. Mitch got in the way, and the bigger guy promptly knocked him out. He hit me twice, but nothing much happened. He then fled after hearing the sirens.
     As the EMTs helped the smaller guy, whose head looked like a misshapen melon, I saw he had gang signs tattooed on him, one being a swastika. They got his name, Harold.
     They caught the bigger guy, Jesse. He tried to be slick and put on a long-sleeved shirt. I identified him after I asked the police to have him pull it up to reveal the familiar blood-stained T-shirt. He later confessed to everything.
     To this day, I wonder if Harold knew a black man saved his life. And if so, how does he feel about that?