It was a crisp, autumn night.

I pulled into the deserted parking lot.

Over by the entrance I saw a trio of men surrounding the parking attendant, one of the men yelling and bearing down on the little man.

The attendant was old and the years had compressed him like a ball of scrap paper.

I didn't understand what they were fighting about, but the thugs' tone turned violent and I stepped in between them.

Blessed with all the physical strength of five hamsters, I could only shout back at the men in English hoping that they wouldn't want to get involved in a situation made messier with a foreigner.

Was I scared? Of course. With all the blood rushing up to my head, my legs barely kept me upright.

The men backed off and left.

Later, when I told my friend what had just happened, she castigated me for putting myself in such a dangerous position. In hindsight, yes that was a little crazy.

Would I ever put myself at risk again?

The recent events involving the Pennsylvania State football coach Joe Paterno resonates even more acutely over here.

The past weeks of national hand-wringing over the inaction of 18 bystanders to save the life of a 2-year-old girl has the country wondering if society's modern self-centered chase for prosperity has obliterated the past traditions of community and public decency.

Joe Paterno is a living icon. In a country where millions of lives are scheduled around college sports and American football being the holy grail of them all, he holds the record as the coach for the most games won.

An investigation regarding the sexual abuse of a child by Paterno's former defensive coordinator Jerry Sandusky has now led to the firing of the legendary coach and criminal charges against Sandusky, the athletic director and the school's vice-president for assisting the cover-up. In addition, earlier abuse witnessed by a janitor went unreported because he feared for his job.

Paterno has built his legacy not only on skilled coaching and strategy but also was known for his integrity - so much so that he created a campaign called "The Grand Experiment" to prove that football excellence and academic integrity could coexist.

Although Paterno complied with the school's policy of reporting the allegations of abuse to the athletic director in 2002, he did not go further, either reporting to the police or following up.

Now that further allegations have recently surfaced, the question in everyone's mind is: Why did he not speak up?

Why did 18 by-standers not help an injured toddler?

Why did powerful men allow the possibility of a sexual predator to continue to abuse young children in their own midst?

As humans, one of our greatest driving forces is self-preservation. We strive for a better life and steer clear of obstacles that could hurt us.

But also as humans, we have an innate desire to live with one another. Whether it's as a family, friends, couples or in a community; no man is an island or wants to be stuck on one alone. We have a moral compass that instinctively signals us to take care of one another, even strangers.

It's when we see a need but push down that natural compulsion to help that the community stands up and rears it's head - justifiably.

The "golden rule" to treat others as we'd like to be treated is an underpinning, a safety net for us as a society to prosper. But by putting ourselves first and leaving behind the vulnerable, we put our survival as a society at risk.

All of us will be challenged at some point, when we must weigh personal risk for the greater good.

And therein lies the dangers of selfishness, for as Edmund Burke said, "All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing".

Oh, and the parking attendant?

He gave me the first hour for free.