There were a lot of us standing there, right on the edge of Union Square Park, and I saw the woman pick herself up from in front of the car, in tears, banging on the driver's side window. I couldn't see the driver. Everyone was yelling to get the plates, and everyone was memorizing them when it started to drive away. I followed with my camera, but only got the picture above.
The woman was sobbing and there was a crowd of people now, and people yelled at the car as it zoomed down to Broadway, fleeing the scene. Cops came into the crowd with notebooks open, and though my picture was useless there were about five people who repeated the license numbers in order. Someone bought the woman a bottle of water; she didn't seem to be hurt, though she had a scratch on her arm. The policemen wanted her to go to the hospital anyway, just to be sure. Someone mentioned that she might have a lawsuit, but she said she only cared that the driver was punished. Her face was all fear.
After a while I walked away. There were plenty of witnesses, and I didn't seem to be the most helpful of them, just standing around. Everyone wanted to be of consolation, but only a few really pushy people got in there with their unknown arms around her shoulders.
The rest of the day I crossed intersections slowly.
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