Am I a Bad Samaritan?

     Along our hiking trail we spotted a rickety wheelchair turned over and empty. My husband Duane and I ran toward it and discovered a man on all fours struggling to crawl toward it. He’d tumbled out and spent the night trapped between rocks.     
     We lifted him into his chair and asked what we could get him. He motioned to plastic bags scattered in the dirt. “My beer,” he slurred.     
     I dug into the torn bags and found jars of peanut butter and jelly, a dirty plastic spoon, a...