Here's a sad little story of our times, as told to me by North of Watford reader John David Whitlam. It relates to an incident early in August.

"I saw a man in Centenary Square. It was raining quite heavily and he was lying on a bench with his head pointing towards City Hall," writes Mr Whitlam.

"His clothes were sodden, puddles had formed in the wrinkles of his trousers and anorak, the hood of which was pulled down over his face. He was ominously still.

"People went about their business, not seeing this poor chap. I doubt if I would have done if my wife had not pointed him out. I went over to him, and gently touched his seeping shoulder. Stupidly, I asked him if he was OK. I asked him again and he didn't answer.

"I touched his hand. It was icy cold. I thought he was dead. I grabbed his wrist and he stirred slightly and pushed his hood back. His face was swollen, his eyes watery. He was perhaps my own age.

"I asked him again if he was all right. Very politely he replied that he was and thanked me for asking. Then he tried to 'tap' me for money to buy a sandwich. I refused.

"He said 'It's OK. Thanks for caring anyway.' Then he slowly laid his head down again and pulled the hood back over his face.

"A security guard from one of the nearby buildings came over. 'Is he dead?' he asked. I pointed out that the man was in need of some assistance and he agreed to call the police.

"My wife and I, like the rest of the people, went on our way. When we returned the man on the bench had gone. I half wished I had given him some money for his 'sarny', but there was another 'body' in the doorway of Provincial House. This one was attended by two other people. I am sorry to say that I was relieved that I did not have to be concerned.

"I said goodbye to my wife and began to make my way back to work. Adjacent to the Alhambra an ambulance passed, alarms blaring out, blue light flashing, heading towards Provincial House. Had someone called the ambulance for the body in the doorway? Or was it just a 'tidying-up operation', as they say?

"Why doesn't anyone care? Why didn't someone from City Hall, the hub of local democracy and the caring state, see them? How can we allow people like that man on the bench to fall into such utter despair?"

I can't even attempt to answer that last question. But I think that most of us know why many people find it difficult to be Good Samaritans, particularly in the 1990s.

Partly it's because most of our own lives are so busy and complicated that we dare not risk becoming inadvertently involved with a sad stranger in obvious need who just might complicate it even further.

Partly it's because the "care in the community" policy has made it potentially quite dangerous to approach someone who is obviously on the fringes of society. Instead, we tend to hope someone else will step in and help where we've passed by fearfully.

I'm trying to explain it. I'm not condoning it. It's something we should be ashamed of, both as individuals and as a society. But unfortunately it's the way we are as we head for the bright new millennium.

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.