It seems like a fable now
But it did happen to me many years and decades ago. My father was a salesman and I, as a young boy, was with him on one of his trips. We stopped in a rural area. The "corners" had been named for one of the residents on one of the corners of the rural highway intersection.
On the private property, there was a statue of a World War I soldier, helping a wounded soldier. It was so long ago, the former wounded soldier came out to talk to us. He had built the statue himself to remember what had happened to him in war and to remember the soldier who rescued him.
For years, off and on, during wartime remembrances, I'd think of that day. For years I would remember the happening, but had forgotten what they called this intersection.
And then a few years ago, my aging brain recalled the name.
It was called Quinlan's Corners, near Moscow, PA.