Guess What Happened to Me Once?

It was 9:30 p.m. I was seventeen and was leaving the ballet studio I'd gone to my whole life. Rehearsals for The Nutcracker had started and we'd gone later than expected that night, and, in a hurry to get home and talk on the phone with the band geek I had a crush on that fall, I threw on my street clothes and left the building before any of the other dancers.

As I walked toward my car, I noticed a few human figures walking on the sidewalk a couple of blocks away, but because I was in the town in which I'd been born and had grown up on a golf course surrounded by trees and green grass and not one person who didn't love me and care about my well-being, I didn't give their presence a moment of thought.

I got into my car and started the engine. My windows were down, and just as suddenly as I heard the pounding of approaching feet on the pavement outside my car, I felt the jolt of a hard, metal object being thrust into my left temple. It was a shotgun.

"Get out of the car!" the male voice ordered. I did. And when I got my bearings and looked around, I saw that I was surrounded by not one, but six men. Immediately, two of the men grabbed each of my arms while the man with the shotgun said, "You're going to get in this car and drive us." And then, just as the two men holding my arms started to shove me back into my vehicle, one of the others suddenly pointed to the house across the street and yelled, "There's someone looking out the window!"

That moment, that fraction of a second, that smidgen of a moment in time, distracted the six men just enough to allow my agile ballet limbs to wriggle loose of their grip and run. I ran, knowing, but at the time not caring, that a shotgun was behind me. I ran, because instinctively I knew that the alternative---getting into the car and leaving with them---was unthinkable. I ran until I found the familiar door of my ballet studio, which I flung open and entered quickly. By that time, the six men had sped away in my car. I was safe. And did I ever have a story to tell my fellow ballerinas.

My car was gone. Along with my purse. And my Chorus Line tape and my Best of The Beatles tape and my Violent Femmes tape. But I wasn't, and the next three days, though rough, were tempered both by gratefulness that I'd successfully fled the abduction and the assurance that those criminals were probably nothing more than punks who'd been hellbent on rabble-rousing that one particular night.

But on the fourth day, my mom came upstairs to my bedroom at 6 a.m. and flipped on the light. The police had just called with the news that my car had finally been found, as had the criminals. They had, the night before, shot and killed a woman while attempting to steal her car. Seems my car had run out of gas on a country road right about the time she'd decided to go searching for her missing dog. They'd flagged her down, she had resisted, and they'd shot her in the back.

I testified at their murder trial, and they're in prison to this day. Though I wouldn't point to this one experience as the only thing that's shaped my life, it has definitely left its mark in definite ways. Some of them are good, some not. But twenty years to the day after it happened, I remain certain of the following things:

1. I was not meant to die that October night.
2. Most women who resist abduction do ultimately survive.
3. Being limber does have its advantages.
4. Life does go on.
5. Oh, and that house across the street? The one with the person in the window who distracted the criminals so I could get away? It was condemned at the time. No one lived there. *Chills*

6. Oh, and one more thing. Thank you, God.

Comments

[cecedon]

Wow Ree, I am a firm believer in people leaving this earth when it is their time. I'm glad that october 6th wasn't your day. It's equally amazing to me that you were ultimately saved by someone who could not have been there, certainly makes you feel the presence of God or an angel huh? Thanks for sharing your story.

[mom]

I said "Ree, do you think you were able to wrench away and run?" and you said "I wasn't getting in that car...I've seen too much t.v.!" Still, I have always thought that remarkable.When you went to school the next fall in South Central L.A., I felt confident about your safety, knowing that you would be VERY cautious and aware.Thank you, God, that Ree lived to blog!

[mom]

that was supposed to say "How do you think......"

[EWB]

Ree, I won't ever forget mom calling to tell what had happened. I think it was the first time I ever realized that life can change in just one moment. Even in our own little happy town. I thought about that happening to you almost every time I dropped off/picked up the girls from the ballet studio. I think an angel must live on that corner. Anyway, I am glad God took care of you that day.Love you,Beth

[Miss Valerie Jean]

Yes, I believe that "Thank God" is the best two words for the outcome of what could have been horrendous. I am glad and thanking God today for you (is that weird, since I don't even know you?) and that you went on to have a hunk of a hubbie, four brilliant and gorgeous babes and live the fantastic life on a ranch!!!!! Oh yes and that you could write a blog and give us a reason to smile at least once a day!! Miss Valerie Jean

[Lawyerish]

Whoa. WHOA. That is an amazing story. How brave you were! I don't know if I could run, knowing someone had a shotgun behind me.And NO ONE LIVED IN THE HOUSE. Oh my God.

[Jenni in KS]

Wow, what a story! The part about the person watching from the window of the abandoned house reminds me of the fourth man Nebuchadnezzar saw in the fiery furnace with Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. I'm glad God was watching out for you that night, Ree!

[~*~ D ~*~]

I am so glad you got away and were not hurt! That number 5 gave me chills!!!!!

[Vicki]

God is so good to us. Desperation causes people to do things they didn't know possible. You were brave, you were reacting as a fighter, you wanted to live. I'm glad for the angel looking out the window.

[Lisa S.]

What an amazing story. Amazing.

[Beth]

Wow, chills is right. I'm glad you survived that fateful night.

[Robin]

Oh, my, ever-lovin' word! I was all smiles when you began this tale, I took ballet until I was 17, when I quit mid-year because overnight I LOATHED it, and then, wow...that's where the similarities ended...No freakin' ballerina story I ever had!THIS is a great reminder to TEACH MY kids neverevereverever "go" with a stranger or someone trying to abduct you. Your best bet for survival (from what you hear anyway) is to BOLT. Once they have you, they have you :/. Man, I feel like talkin' "pirate"--shiver me timbers (although I have no idea what "me timbers" are). The "shiver" sure does fit.Did you talk to the band geek that night? How long did it take you to walk alone at night somewhere?The "what-ifs" I can't even consider.

[Julie]

You know there had to be someone in that house. An angel maybe. I remember hearing this story and afterward thinking that is one tough chick.

[C]

holy frijoles! You just gave me chills! (along with everyone else!)

[erika]

Wow. Number 5 gave me chills as well. I'm very happy you had your wits about you to run.

[momto3cubs]

Wow. I can't imagine. So glad you got away and no physical harm has come to you. Thank you to God and his guardian angels.

[Pamela]

A Guardian Angel. For some reason whenI was reading, the sweet smiles of your kids kept flitting through my head...The potential there is for great things.Karmyn's great aunt (family of my 1st marriage) was grabbed at age 16, thrown into the trunk of a car --- and her body was eventually thrown off a bridge over a deep canyon. Their family took years to recover from her violent death. Her mom (Kar's great grandma) never did.

[owlhaven]

Wow. Amazing.Mary, mom to many

[James Cooper]

That is a truly amazing thing you did. A lot of people wind up complying or paralyzed with fear but you were stronger than that. Despite your fears your will to survive was very great.As with everyone else here I'm glad you survived that night, I'm glad you were brave enough to testify against those men, and I'm glad that you are who you are and that night's events didn't shape you negatively.

[wds]

I remember being at college when mom called and said, "we had a minor tragedy..." Minor?Until today, I didn't know there were 6 of them and I didn't know it was a shotgun. WOW!Very amazing... I know it was instinctive that you ran, but I don't think that very many people would have run with a gun pointed at their head.Glad to still have you around Ree Ree!

[Ann]

Oh, man, Ree. Your instincts and your ability to act on them saved your life.On this same subject, everyone should read Gavin De Becker's two books: (1) The Gift of Fear, and (2) Protecting the Gift: Keeping Chilren and Teenagers Safe (and Parents Sane). They are very imformative, empowering books.

[Jenny]

Wow.Willowtree sent me over here. Glad I came. What a terrifying story. But so inspiring.

[wetsy]

I was home when Mom and Dad got the call, and I went to the ballet studio with them to get you. I was twelve, and my most defined memory of walking into the building is seeing your red, tear-streaked face. I had hardly ever seen you cry; I knew if you were crying, it was bad. I ran to and from the car and for the next 7 years of ballet.I can't even begin to ponder what the last 20 years would have been like without you (biting lip, swallowing hard). God knew your little punk-ass sister needed you.

[Karmyn R]

H O L Y C R A P I'm glad you are alive to be here - with your cute kids, great stories, and reminders that we should all celebrate our life!

[Renee]

Wow, I can't even imagine having been through something like that. You were quick on your feet and did some quick thinking too! Yes, I did indeed get chills reading about the condemned house!