They say there are no such things as coincidences in life. The day an old man by the name of Pepe fell off the Bal Harbour jetty and I just happened to see him was proof enough for me that saying was true. I was definitely in the right place at the right time. At least, it seemed that way.
For whatever reason, my usual Saturday morning run was delayed by at least three hours: I had overslept, meandered around my apartment tidying up for too long and afterward spent way too much time on social media. I thought I was procrastinating, stalling, feeling uninspired to exercise, but looking back at it now, I’m not so sure.
Finally, when the mood struck or at least when I was about to run out of ME time, (because I was hosting two events for Deco Drive that evening,) I tugged on my sneakers and headed for the walking path behind my condo. I cherished my time sweating it out on the beach. It’s one of the few pleasures in life I get absolutely lost in.
I love the way the ocean sounds, how the wind feels and the air tastes; thick with salt and humidity. When I jog, I listen to my favorite music and let the beat guide me, syncing my breathing and steps together until I eventually find my pace. On this particular day, though, I ran with such strength and determination it actually surprised me. It was as if someone or something was willing me forward, almost carrying me to my destination.
Earlier that morning, I was feeling tired from too much wine the night before. I was a little down because a blog I had been working on fell through. Usually, those things would slow down my running, but they didn’t. Instead, I was quick, light and strong. I ran three miles so effortlessly (from Surfside to Bal Harbour,) I couldn’t help but smile as I neared the jetty. It was a big accomplishment for me.
Before my bout with GBS (Guillain-Barre’ Syndrome) I used to be an avid runner, but battling my illness had left my body so weak and so frail it would take years before I could exercise again. After intense physical therapy, I worked my way up to walking on the path, then a light jog and now this: a spirited run. It was a true milestone that made me extremely proud and genuinely happy.
To celebrate my accomplishment (even though I didn’t have much time,) I allowed myself the privilege of walking to the end of the jetty to enjoy the view and breathe in the fresh sea air. If you’re familiar with the area, you know how exquisite it is. For me, it’s not only one of the most beautiful spots in Miami; it’s one of the most breathtaking views in the world.
It’s where the bay and the ocean merge together and the large concrete pier, known as the jetty, snakes its way out into the water, allowing tourists, locals and seasoned fishermen to take advantage of the surroundings. On the north side of the jetty the ever-changing (usually moody) waves crash endlessly against dozens of dark, heavy rocks. On the south side, the beach is pretty, pristine and dazzles with white sand and crystal blue water. Just before the beach, outlining the entire area, is a thick patch of tall wheat-colored, wild brush. It gives the shoreline a Hamptons-esque kind of feel.
As I blissfully made my way down the concrete path, suddenly (and for no apparent reason,) I grew anxious and worried. Then as if someone whispered a warning in my ear, I stopped to turn around. What happened next seemed to unfold in slow motion. Just as I looked over my right shoulder, an older gentleman, who was standing on the very edge of the south side of the jetty (right by the brush,) started to lose his balance. His body twisted strangely and he fell so unbelievably quick and hard it took my breath away.
I immediately ran toward him yelling: “Are you okay? ARE YOU OKAY?” He didn’t answer. When I reached the side of the jetty where he had lost his balance, I found him lying listless in the tall brush; his left arm was twisted behind his back and his left leg was in a weird position. He looked disfigured. I immediately jumped off the short ledge and started talking to him.
“You’re okay, you’re going to be okay,” I told him. He let out a weak cry. “Can you hear me? Sir, can you hear me?” I asked aggressively. He stared at me blankly. I wanted to move him, but I was afraid. It looked as if he had broken his arm and his leg. I cried for help at the top of my lungs and looked to see if anyone nearby heard me. The brush was so tall it covered us both.
I screamed again, but this time I stood up to clear the brush and waved my arms to make sure someone could see me: “HELP! PLEASE HELP!!” Several people nearby not only heard me, but LOOKED AWAY. Another person, who was walking by, turned around and walked the other way. I couldn’t believe it. I was stunned. I grew panicked and started to cry.
I didn’t have my phone to call 911 and felt totally ill prepared to handle what was happening right before my eyes. Out of instinct, I dropped to my knees again and positioned the man’s head on my lap. His left temple had a huge blood bruise on it that grew worse by the second. His face was covered with sand and his glasses had fallen half way down his face and were jammed inside his mouth.
I took off my trusty sweatband and wiped his face the best I could and then I repositioned his glasses and talked to him. “What’s your name? Tell me your name.” I whimpered. “I’m Shireen. You’re going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.” I said. He started to come around, but he couldn’t talk. I screamed again for help.
This time a young mother, who was leisurely strolling around the jetty with her husband and two children, saw me and sprinted toward me as fast as she could (her husband and kids stayed behind.) I’m not exactly sure what I said when she found us in the brush, but I blurted out what was happening and without hesitation, she started helping.
Together we moved him into a more comfortable position and the woman’s husband went to get help. I asked the man his name again and this time he mumbled something inaudible. The young mother quickly recognizing he had a accent spoke to him in Spanish, asking his name. He finally responded: “My name is Pepe. It’s my nickname.” I smiled kindly at him and breathed a huge sigh of relief.
Just as Pepe started to come around, so did professional help. At first, it was a bike cop who drilled me about what had happened. A short time later, emergency workers arrived via ambulance. I grew more calm as help arrived and started thinking about how late I would be to work.
I also wondered if my boyfriend was worried about me. Usually, if I took too long on my exercise outings, he would set out looking for me (especially, because of my health problems.) Even though I knew Pepe was in good hands, it was hard for me to leave him. Although the police (a few more showed up) and the EMT’s were more than capable, I felt in my heart that he needed a little extra care and compassion. Perhaps, it was self-projection.
I stroked Pepe’s thin white hair and held his fragile hand until it was time for the professionals to take over. As I walked away, he called out to me: “Thank you. God bless you.” I smiled, blew him a kiss and jogged back home. Unfortunately, not as fast as I had run there. I made decent time, though, fueled by fear, anxiety and sorrow. When I arrived back at my apartment, I fell into my boyfriend’s arms and sobbed with grief.
My reaction caught me off guard; triggering me on so many different levels. I was saddened by the fact that initially no one would help; people not only turned away, they walked away, too. What’s more, I felt because Pepe was older and frail, he was easily discarded, which is exactly how I felt when I was sick. Because of my weaknesses, I, too, was discarded by some of the people I loved and needed most.
My best friend, my husband, some acquaintances, even colleagues within the broadcasting community looked away. Some even walked away. No one ever told me it was going to be okay and it was something I desperately needed to hear. That’s why I insisted on repeating it to Pepe.
Sometimes, even if everything is falling apart (and in Pepe’s case, your arm and your leg are twisted behind your body,) even if the odds are stacked against you, you just need someone to say: “it’s going to be OKAY.” No matter how bad it is, WE are gonna work it out, WE are going to figure it out. Key words here: WE. US. TOGETHER. Even if you’re scared, even if you’re facing death, the power of we, us, together, should never be underestimated. It’s called compassion.
Later that day, work went on as usual, but my thoughts remained with Pepe. My experience with him reminded me of what I had learned from my illness: that kindness, empathy and love should always be entrenched in the human spirit. Without those characteristics life easily loses its luster, purpose and direction.
I’ve dubbed it “The Hightower Effect,” which is the act of elevating and lifting up those around you. Let me explain. This blog is named after shoe designer Mira Hightower. Her shoe line is called Heather Hightower. When Mira’s mother was giving birth to her, she almost died and Mira was in danger, too.
Her father, scared and trying to keep her brother shielded from the possible tragedy, handed him a book of names and told him to choose one for his new sister. He chose Mira. When Mira’s mother woke up from her near-death experience, she told everyone that the baby’s name was Heather, but the name had already been chosen to help ease everyone’s nerves, possible pain and to complete the birth certificate.
You see, the name Mira was chosen from a ripple effect of unconditional love and compassion; starting with an undeniable love for a wife and a mother, to the father who loved and cared about his son, to his son who cared and loved his new baby sister. “The Hightower Effect” is something Mira is a product of and it shows in everything she creates.
Shireen Sandoval: You’re a freelance footwear designer. Tell me what that means.
Mira Hightower: I design footwear for other brands. Some are big brand names and some are smaller startup companies. I also design exclusive collections for fashion boutiques.
SS: How would you describe a pair of your shoes?
MH: Luxurious, classic with glam details.
SS: Walk me through the design process.
MH: Inspiration is the first step; you must know what inspires you, what makes you feel good, and then translate that to the collection. From there, you sketch and have samples made and watch the vision come to life. The entire process is so exciting!
SS: You also design accessories. Purses, too? You’re my new best friend (laughing) tell me about your accessories.
MH: You know us ladies love our shoes and handbags. Heather Hightower will have purses for Fall 2015. The collection will consist of cute and colorful leather clutches and tote bags with big personalities.
SS: You describe yourself as a fashion lover. What is your biggest weakness when it comes to shopping?
MH: Hands down..shoes! I seriously have the conversation with myself all the time about it just being one more pair. I mean, really, how can you pass them up? Especially when they are 40% off ?!?!
SS: How many pairs of shoes do you own?
MH: I would say around 200 pairs, my family and friends would easily argue 500 pairs.
SS: That’s my girl!
SS: What is your absolute favorite pair of shoes and why?
MH: I have a pair of navy blue patent leather Prada heels that I got for my birthday a few years ago. They are sky high and I feel like superwoman when I wear them. The navy blue is actually a great neutral and works with a lot of looks.
SS: When did you first realize you wanted to design shoes?
MH: I’ve been in love with fashion since I was a little girl. I originally went to college for Fashion Merchandising and then I went back for Accessory Design. I knew that was exactly what I wanted to do. Shoes make me happy. I think they make others happy, too. I want to be that person that can help give people something to keep them happy!
SS: I always say “you can tell a woman by her shoes.” Do you agree and if so, why?
MH: Yes, I like to say “My Shoes, My Attitude.” You can tell how a woman is feeling and what type of woman she is by the shoes she’s wearing. You absolutely feel more fabulous in a pair of 5 inch designer heels than you do in a pair of your everyday flats.
SS: Tell me about your shoe blog.
MH: My blog www.HeelzStayHigh.com is about shoes, of course! I also add in a mix of motivation, inspiration, fashion looks and fashion entrepreneur tips. It is a place where fashion lovers and upcoming designers.
SS: What do you think the Miami fashionista wants in a pair of shoes?
MH: The Miami fashionista is of a different caliber. She wants style, glam AND comfort. She wants to look effortlessly chic.
SS: Which current shoe designer or brand inspires you and why?
MH: For shoes, I’m crushing on Tamara Mellon because the shoes are classic and edgy like my line. For brands, I’m crushing on Tory Burch. It’s amazing how she built an empire from her kitchen table. Very inspiring.
SS: If you could only wear one pair of heels for the rest of your days, which pair would it be and why?
MH: This is a very tough question. I would say my black Candy Croc Heels because they are timeless and can be dressed up or dressed down so they work for any occasion.
“The Hightower Effect” is also about lifting/elevating your shoe game and with Mira’s creative line, it’s easy to do. Her shoes are not only colorful (with pretty pink bottoms,) they come with fun, attachable accessories; fluffy pink pom pom’s and bows with fringe tassels (pictured in the blog.) Your feet won’t suffer in a pair of Heather Hightower’s either; comfort is key when she designs a shoe.
To add pizzazz to our blog photos, one of Miami’s best on-line boutiques, Haute Glam, gussied me up in three summer inspired looks paired with some amazing statement jewelry chosen by my blog stylist, Jackie Kay: a comfy blue romper, a fabulous bright orange maxi and my favorite, a dark blueish green, paisley print bohemian dress (all pictured in the blog.) I love how the shoes make each look pop with individuality.
In the meantime, I don’t know exactly what happened to Pepe. He was in good hands when I left him on the side of the jetty that hot Saturday afternoon. At first I thought the coincidence of this story was that I was meant to help him, but now I realize it was actually Pepe who helped me.
When I saw how people reacted to Pepe falling and me screaming for help, it broke my heart, but it also reminded me of just how important it is to help people; to be kind, selfless and compassionate. Just like anything in life, it’s an action that needs to be practiced on a daily basis to perfect.
Whether it’s a kind word, a generous deed or calling someone just to say hello and tell them you’re thinking of them, being a beautiful soul is so effortless, if you just allow it. Moreover, when you help someone with a gracious act, you trigger a positive chain of events known in Asian mysticism as an ‘endless knot,’ which is directly related to the principle of karma: we get what we give.
Even though I haven’t been able to run as fast as I did on the day that I met Pepe, I hope I get to see him enjoying the jetty view someday soon. Until then, I’ll keep practicing my pace, but more importantly, I’ll keep practicing “The Hightower Effect,” because compassion and kindness never go out of style and that’s why it’s one of my favorite things.
Shop the shoes in the blog at www.HeatherHightowerMiami.com.
Twitter: @HeelzStayHigh
Instagram: @Heather_HightowerMiami
FB: Heather Hightower Miami
Wardrobe and accessories provided by: www.HauteGlamBoutique.com
Twitter: @HauteGlamBtq
Instagram: @HauteGlamBoutique
Facebook: Haute Glam Boutique
Twitter: @ShireenSandoval
IG: @ShireenSandoval
ssandoval@wsvn.com
www.shireensandoval.com
Photographer: James Woodley
Twitter: @BritFloridian
IG: @BritFloridian
http://www.James-Woodley.com
Hair & Make-up: Odette Hernandez
Twitter: @Odettehernandz
IG: O.D.E.T.T
Styling & Assist: Jackie Kay
blog ideas: Jackiekay211@yahoo.com
Editor: Matthew Auerbach
MattAuerbach@yahoo.com