Every time I read another story about a missing child, I get a knot in my stomach. I can’t imaging the pain of having your child abducted, even right from your own home while you sleep, with no idea if you will ever see your child alive again.
I’ll admit that I’m very protective of my two girls. They stay within my sight at all times when we’re at the playground. If we go to a crowded event, I prefer to make them sit in the stroller rather than risk turning my back and having one disappear into the crowd. I reinforce the importance of staying near mommy and daddy to Cordy, explaining that if she gets lost she could be gone forever. Yes, I might be making her fearful, but I’d rather her have a little scared of others if it means she’ll get to see adulthood.
This is more than a typical mama-bear response, I think, because I know how fast an abduction can happen. Because as a child I was nearly abducted myself.
I must have been 7 or 8 years old when it happened – I can’t remember exactly. During the summer I spent most of my time at my babysitter’s house, or at our community pool. The pool was about 3/4 of a mile away, along residential streets, and I was often allowed to walk to and from the pool from my babysitter’s house. It was a small town in the early 80s, when people left their doors unlocked while home and kids spent their days outside wandering the neighborhood.
This particular day it was hot and sunny, and I was walking back to my babysitter’s house from the pool dressed only in a swimsuit and flip-flops, with a beach towel draped over my shoulders. I always liked taking the alley home instead of the street. There was something more quiet and interesting about the alley – instead of seeing houses the way people wanted you to see them, I saw the real houses as I walked past the fenced-in backyards: laundry on the clothesline, lawn furniture and outdoor toys scattered across lawns, grassy areas full of dog poop that someone had yet to clean, a car on blocks, etc.
There was also a church that I would walk past in the alley, nestled between nice homes with its white exterior and stained glass windows. It always seemed out of place and larger than life when I walked behind it.
It was on this day that I was strolling down the alley and as usual, keeping my eyes on the ground as I kicked rocks ahead of me. I glanced up as I approached the church, and noticed a man walking towards me. I was a little startled, first because I had never encountered anyone else walking down that alley in the middle of the afternoon, and second because the last time I had looked up, there was no one coming down that long, straight alley. Where did he come from?
I looked back down at the ground again and tried to maintain my best not interested in interacting because I have to be somewhere soon aura, hoping he would be equally uninterested and pass me without a word. But as we walked closer toward each other, his eyes were locked on me, and he forced a smile.
“Hi, uh, do you know… uh, do you know where I can find a paint store?”
I’m sure I must have looked at him like he was insane. A paint store? What a weird question to ask a kid in an alley.
“No, sorry. I don’t know of one.” I replied, trying to keep the conversation as short as possible. I started to take another step towards my destination, but he didn’t move out of my way, and instead moved closer.
“Are you sure? I really need to find a paint store. C’mon, every town has one.”
At this point he was invading my personal space and I was distinctly uncomfortable. I took a step back from him. He was a little short, but still taller and bigger than me. I remember he had light brown hair , but was balding across the top of his head, making his forehead look enormous. His face was square with small eyes and a big nose, and his jaw was so tight I could see it clenched. He was trying to be friendly, but looked very uncomfortable.
While my finely-honed stranger-danger spidey-sense had been activated the minute he looked at me, it was now flashing orange caution lights in my head. He was either shady or mentally ill, and I couldn’t decide which.
“Sorry, I don’t pay attention to paint stores. I’m just a kid. Try asking at a gas station.” And with that I walked around him and continued on my way, heart pounding in my chest. I refused to look back at first – not wanting him to see I was nervous, but after a minute I did glance over my shoulder quickly.
He was gone.
I think not seeing him there at all confused me even more. But by the time I reached the end of the alley, turning onto the short street, I had dismissed the interaction as one of those weird but forgettable moments in life, calming down and resuming my typical kid thoughts. Some people are just odd.
But then, as I approached the corner of the main street – where I would then be half a block away from my babysitter’s street and from there in view of her house – I saw an older car turn onto the shorter street, pulling over at the corner. Adrenaline pushed my heart into my throat as I realized it was the man from the alley in the car. He rapidly got out of the car, still trying to act friendly, but now appearing more serious and still a little nervous as he walked towards me with a determined pace.
“Listen, I really need your help, little girl. Can you come with me and show me where the nearest gas station is?”
I remember glancing down the street each way. This neighborhood was always dead quiet in the afternoon, with everyone at work. I saw no one around, no one I could run to, and no one who would hear me scream. He was coming at me from the right, the sidewalk was directly in front of me, and there was a small hill on my left, with a large grassy yard. I didn’t know what to do, and simply froze as he approached me.
“Just go down North Street and you’ll see one,” I replied. At this point, red WARNING lights were flashing in my head. He was a stranger asking me to get into his car, which I knew was a bad idea. There was no reason for him to be seeking help from a kid.
“I’m not from here. Come on, help me out. It’s OK, I won’t hurt you.” He was getting dangerously close, and when he dropped the smile completely I no longer felt he was a harmless mentally ill person.
At this point I was very scared. “NO! Leave me alone!” I yelled at him while taking a step back.
The next two seconds still feel like slow motion when I replay it in my head. I remember him shifting his weight towards me. His arm beginning to extend. Hand reaching out to grab me.
I remember at the same time my legs working of their own accord. Instinct moving me up that little grassy hill out of his reach while my brain still tried to process what was happening.
I recall pausing at the top of that little hill, as my higher brain function connected with the cerebellum again, looking back at the man still only a few feet from me, still lunging forward from trying to get a hand on me.
Before he could completely recover, I ran full speed across the yard towards my babysitter’s house, running as if my life depended on it, because at this moment it did. I think I was screaming but I can’t really remember. When I reached my babysitter’s house, I no longer had my flip-flops on – I don’t remember when they came off my feet.
Here’s where I made my biggest mistake: I never told my babysitter. I didn’t tell my mom for a long time, either. I’d been told not to walk in alleys, and I was scared that I’d get in trouble for walking in the alley that day. I think I was worried they’d tell me I deserved what happened because I didn’t listen to them. So I stayed quiet, keeping this terror to myself and not thinking about stopping this man from trying this again. Years later, I still feel guilty over that. What if he abducted a different little girl because I never told the police?
There was no way I could have an adult with me at all times. But I had been taught to avoid strangers, and that lesson possibly helped save me from being kidnapped. It’s one time in my life that I’m glad I had such a strong mistrust of people. What if I had trusted him and let him get closer to me? What would he have done with me? Would I even be alive today?
I never saw him again, but I always looked for his face in crowds. In some ways, I still watch for him. That one short experience impacted how I view others, and it wasn’t until I had children of my own that I realized how much it has affected my parenting.
I know I can’t be with Cordy and Mira all the time. The older they get, the more time they will likely spend away from me. But I will do my best to teach them stranger safety, hoping that if they ever fall into a situation like I went through, they’ll get out of it safely.
And maybe they’ll be smarter than me and listen when told to stay out of alleys.
how scary! I was nearly hit by a drunk driver when I was 9 and on my bike. I know that it has affected the way that I parent the girls. Altho now as they are getting older I see myself loosening up a bit, but not much!
That is really frighting. As a kid, we used to take walks around my apartment complex, and once a guy, maybe 20’s pulled up to my friend and me and asked if we wanted a ride to Mcdonalds. We said no, and he drove away. Another time, this older guy in a beat up car kept pulling up to us and asking if we needed a ride. He never did anything more than that, but it happened several times.
That is so scary! Glad he didn’t get you – and I hope he never got any other kids either.
When I was the same age as Nicole Morin, she was kidnapped from her West Mall apartment building in Toronto – and at the time, we were living on the East Mall. My mother put the fear of God into us after that. Then when I was in nursing school, Paul Bernardo was on the loose in our area – and I often rode the bus before sunlight and after dark and had to walk to and from dark bus stops. It’s scary to think I could have been one of those girls.
Did you read Mamatulip’s blog this week? She wrote about the same thing and her story is chilling too.
that is so very scary. when I was in elementary school we had a strange car that would drive slowly down the street as kids were walking home from school. the man inside tried to abduct my neighbor girl and she was quick enough to memorize the license plate and her parents called the police. I remember my mother telling me the man was arrested a day later, and he was a convicted child molester. I have never forgotten that and I think that’s partly why I’m afraid of strangers to this very day.
Wow, what a terrifying memory. I cannot even imagine the fear that must be in a mother’s heart knowing first-hand how it feels to be the person the stranger is approaching. I’m glad you weren’t kidnapped that day!
That is terrifying. It sounds like you really kept your head in a scary situation, though.
Heart pounding. That is a scary childhood memory. Good thing you got out OK, though.
Wow! I am glad that you knew enough to run away from that creepy guy.
Yikes! That is so scary!!!!! What a smart kid you were. So many kids are taught about strangers but sometimes it just doesn’t sink in.
Scary.
How frightening! I’m glad you had the right advice and instincts to escape.
I need to talk to my three year old more about this kind of safety.
That’s so scary! My heart was totally racing. I am glad that you did the exact right thing by yelling and running, but it sucks that you didn’t tell anyone. I’m sure that was really hard.
That is horrible, but I’m so glad your story had a better ending than most.
OMG that freaks me out. You are about the same age as me apparently. I was born in 75 and grew up outside North Little Rock, Arkansas. I did a lot of the same things. I wandered the neighbothoods with my friends going to the store for a soda or chasing down the ice cream man. I don’t ever remember even coming close to being abducted, but I was molested by my friends older brothers and their friends, I also at the time never told anyone. Now I am a divorced father of an 12 y/o little girl and my girlfriend has two, one is 11 and one is 6. I watch them like a hawk. Trust is not allowed in todays society. It is just too dangerous.
OMG. Christina, my heart is STILL racing. That is an absolutely terrifying story. Thank you for putting it out there and reminding us just how quickly that can happen.
That is my biggest fear for my kids. So scary what you went through. All I can think of when I read stories like this is how scared that child must have been and it makes my ache.
WOW! You’ve brought back flashbacks. 1982- I was 11. Walking to the grocery store (about 1/2 mile up the road) with a girlfriend and we were approached by old, bearded men in a truck offering us a ride. Since we were told not to talk to strangers, we ignored them. Walked faster but the street had a block wall on one side and the road on the other- nowhere to turn. They slowed down and followed us pretty close but pulled away. Then, in the grocery store, we notice them scanning the aisles for us. We are completely freaked out by then and do the *right* thing which is to let the clerks at the store know and hide until the men are gone. We did not call our parents for a ride home and we should have. We did not tell them because we didn’t want to lose the right to walk to the store. Point being: our kids may grow up and do the right thing and escape danger and we may never know. I’m glad we were all tough cookies as youngsters.
Yikes! That must have been traumatic, especially since you were just a child. I was almost mugged last year and I still remember the fear that went through me as I had to think quick to avoid it happening.
Holy cow – that is so, so scary. The closest that I ever came to being kidnapped was when I was five. My dad brought me to Time Square to see the Thanksgiving Day Parade and we got separated. I think the only thing that saved me was that I went up to a woman that was pushing a baby carriage, with a baby in it and telling her that I was lost and she got a police officer! I don’t remember how they found my dad, but they did, thankfully!!
DUde, that is scary.
Have you shared that story with Cordy and Mira? I think they would really value it. I think they would be able to relate to the story, if they knew it was YOU talking from when YOU were a kid, not just a grown-up telling them to be careful.
You are so lucky to still be here.
This is a really intense story. It is terrifying how easy something like that can happen to little kids. I’m glad you trusted your instincts and got away. And you’ve just inspired me to have another talk with my kids soon.
I grew up in the same era when parenting was so much more relaxed. I remember being allowed to walk and ride my bike by myself miles from my house at eight or nine years old.
I also remember a few too close for comfort calls and it scares the crap out of me now that we have Myles.
I think it’s going to be so difficult to find that balance between letting Myles know that there are dangers in the world and also making him feel safe and able to explore.
I think this is every parents worst nightmare now that we’ve lived through Adam Walsh (that happened in my hometown), Polly Klaas, Elizabeth Smart, Jessica Lunsford & Sabrina Aisenberg (both happened here) and so many other awful abduction stories.
You may or may not recall when I wrote about being grabbed by a guy at a hotel when I was about nine. I still wonder if another girl wasn’t as lucky as I was.
so so so scary. i am terrified of something like that happening to blake. i would just die. i remember walking EVERYWHERE when i was young and thinking now how insane my parents were. i remember some guy following me in his car as i walked to gemco. when i went to leave, he was right there. i went right back in the store, called my mom and told her to come get me. i was always aware of weird behavior from cars and people when i was walking- i think i thought EVERYONE wanted to kidnap me. lol