PREDATOR #2
CATEGORY: UNIVERSITY YEARS
At the university all my architecture home work had to be done at school because the school provided one set of drafting equipment and school was where that equipment was. I did not have the space or the money for my own set at home. The presentations at the end of each term required long hours at school.
I was walking home late in the evening. It was raining. My route included a 16 block trek up 13th Street which was a brightly lit thoroughfare near the campus. Jari and I lived a half block from 13th. As I was approaching my corner, I suddenly heard running foot steps behind me: RIGHT behind me. I turned toward the sound just as a man ran up, shoved his hand into my crotch, and said “Fuck you!”. The spokes of my umbrella caught him in the face as I turned, causing him to pull back to one side, but we were under a street light, and I saw him clearly; he was tall, very thin and had longish blonde hair. He fled back the way he had come. I was stunned. I just stood there. Across the street was an all night Laundromat, and two men were standing in front under its awning talking. They had glimpsed what happened, and when they saw me standing still, one of them called and asked if I were OK. I said yes and moved on.
A couple of weeks later, a frightening incident happened that was in all the newspapers. It happened just on the edge of campus not too far from where we lived. A young woman had been assulted. A man had come up behind her, put a knife to her throat and actually cut part of her throat. There were people standing nearby when this happened just as there had been when I was assaulted across from the Laundromat. That was when I called the police. A police officer came to my apartment and took a description from me. He told me the girl’s throat was actually cut worse than had been reported, and there was a short time when it was doubtful if she would live.
A few days later the officer stopped by and told me that the man had been apprehended. It was the same skinny, blonde man. He was married with two children. He had assaulted some other women, in the same manner as he had me, before he used a knife on the last one. The officer told me not to walk home alone at night, but I didn’t heed his warning. In my hay-seed implanted mind, I figured it couldn’t happen twice. Fortunately I was right.