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AlphaD Side Story #7: Intersection at 12th and H
While walking near 12th and H Street in Washington, DC, Dan notices a speeding box truck failing to stop at a red light. As a distracted group of pedestrians begins crossing, Dan acts without hesitation. He pulls a young woman back by her backpack, shoves two others out of harm’s way, and narrowly prevents a tragedy. The truck crashes into a light pole, but no one is seriously hurt. Though shaken, the group quickly realizes Dan’s quick thinking saved their lives. When thanked, Dan downplays his actions, citing instinct over expertise and emphasizing that caring doesn’t require familiarity. He quietly walks away, never giving his name, leaving behind a powerful impression as a stranger who chose to act when it mattered most.
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Transcript
AlphaD Side Story #7: Intersection at 12th and H
It was supposed to be a quiet Sunday. Fog rolled off the Potomac like breath from a sleeping giant, softening the sharp lines of the city. Dan walked briskly toward the National Gallery, his mind already halfway through a new project he’d been tasked with on café napkins for three days ago.
He stopped at the crosswalk at 12th and H, waiting with a small group: a young woman with earbuds, a man holding a coffee and briefcase, and a teenager hunched over his phone. No one looked up—except Dan.
He saw it before anyone else did. A box truck was coming fast. Too fast. Its driver wasn’t slowing—eyes on the phone, not the red light. Dan’s eyes darted to the group. The woman was stepping forward.
“Hey—!” Dan shouted, but she didn’t hear.
He moved. Fast.
In one motion, he yanked her back by her backpack strap, turned to the man and teen, and shoved them both clear of the curb. The truck roared past a breath later, missing them by inches. It skidded, clipped a sign, and slammed to a stop against a light pole across the intersection.
Silence fell, save for a few horns and panicked yells.
The woman pulled her earbuds out, breath caught. “What—?”
“You almost walked into a statistic,” Dan said, steadying her. “You okay?”
The others stared, stunned.
The driver stumbled out of the truck, shaken but unhurt. Police sirens screamed from blocks away.
A man nearby stepped forward. “That was… you just saved them.”
Dan gave a tight, awkward smile. “Right place, right neurons firing.”
Later, the young woman caught up with him as he walked away.
“You didn’t even hesitate.”
“I try my best,” he said, glancing at her.
“You don’t even know us.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
She nodded, quiet. “Thanks.”
He nodded back, then disappeared into the thinning fog.
He never gave his name. But they would remember him.
The man who noticed.
The one who moved.
The stranger who didn’t have to care—but did.
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