Your sharing your story of being attacked and
YOU disarming your attacker reminded me of an
event that in the moment was stressful only in
that I was adrenalized and thinking moment by
moment of what to do but in the final outcome,
I felt so empowered that fear was no longer my
enemy. I felt I always had options and that fear
would only limit them....

I was a young women, perhaps a freshman or
sophomore in high school. Summers, I worked at
Edgewater Beach on Lake Erie. One summer we had
a tremendous problem with gangs sandwiching people
between the tunnels that went under the highway
and many were robbed, raped, and at worst, killed.
Well, I had a wad on money in my pocket and was
traveling down a path that came close to one of
the tunnels. When I started down the path, it looked
clear, but as I got close to the tunnel, about 15
young men stepped out. They approached me and assuming
the wad in my pocket was a pack of cigarettes, asked
for them. I made a quick decision to run to the beach,
where it was late in the season so there were not a
gazillion people, but enough I hoped to deter an attack.
I was screaming for help and telling people to call the
police.

No such luck though, the gang followed and people scattered
like flies the look of their fear remaining in my mind
vividly and I knew better than to expect help as no one
was in the least bit interested in anything but fleeing
the situation. In the matter of minutes the entire
beach had cleared and I was heading into the water.
The gang surrounded me and was taunting me. The leader
came in and was much larger than me. He grabbed me and
held me in a head-lock and there began a frenzy of the
others egging him on and me fighting him. He was thrashing
me up and down and I thought he might drown me. I do not
know how I "lucked out" but somehow his arm which he had
across my front was in front on my mouth and I sank my
teeth into it. He totally freaked out and was using his
other hand to choke me. He was screaming and his friends
were howling with laughter. Amazingly, no one came in to
help him. I could taste his blood running down my throat.
I thought I would lose consciousness and came close but
the second he finally let go and shook me loose, I ran
like hell in the water along side the beach toward the
parking lot. The minute he took to examine himself was
enough of a head start to give me just enough edge but
in no time I had a gang of young men roaring after me
like a scene out of Clockwork Orange~!

I reached the parking lot and concession stand area and
people there who knew me saw what was happening and in
another few heartbeats trunks opened and guns and clubs
and mace appeared as the inevitable face-off ensued. There
was a melee but my friends protected me and in the end
the stand-off and posturing ended with the men on my side
who had guns standing tough against the thugs. That was
the last year I worked there. I counted myself extremely
lucky. I KNOW that somewhere there is someone who has to
look down every day and see the scars from my teeth in
his arm. I suppose I am one of those people who has
decided that if I am going to die before I feel ready,
I will not go out without a fight~!

I really like that you also refused to be a victim.
Sounds like you were "tested" and passed with flying
colors.



best wishes,
Zoe

-_-