I just watched the Jaycee Dugard story that came on abc news (probably a dateline special) She was kidnapped at age 11 in 1991.
it brought back some painful memories of my own. especially when I realized that my own story happened the same year hers did. I was 8 at the time.
I had just got home from school, while waiting for my mom to get home for work since I didn’t have a key to the house, I played at the park that was in plain view of our house. A man drove up in a big white car, i never noticed its make at the time, but in my memory it looks something like a Cadillac from the 1980’s. He got out and said something about he was looking for his lost cat, and he thought he saw it head down a sidewalk, away from the park. I don’t remember him actually asking me to help him, but I guess i must have assumed he wanted help catching it, and I loved cats, so why not? he led me down the sidewalk past a few houses until we reached the side of one. on the side of the house were bushes, except at a window. I can’t remember whether he told me to look in the bushes or i did it myself. I was looking in the bushes, with them on either side of me, the house in front of me, and he was behind me, at least I realized this when i turned around and found myself trapped.
his fly was open and he held his penis out and ordered me to “play with it” I told him “no” to which he replied “do you want to be hurt?” and I replied “no” and he said “then play with it”. I don’t know how, but I am extremely grateful, i screamed “NO!!!!” and ran, I somehow got away from him. i ran back home and hid behind the brick wall of our garden, until i heard my mom’s old car pull up (it had a distinctive noise), and she got out and yelled my name. she must have seen my coat at the park. at that point i ran out of the garden, i ran to her. I don’t remember what i told her, but i must have told her enough, as we ran inside, and she called the police. i remember going to the bathroom, finding the rough soap my parents used to get paint or car grease off of their hands. and i scrubbed my hands and face with it. i don’t think i ever touched him, so i don’t know why i did this, i must have felt dirty, and disgusted.
the police came later and asked me questions. I remember feeling odd telling them that he showed me his “dick” was what I called it at the time, even though i was afraid to say the word in front of adults. i was afraid i would get in trouble. I also remember looking out the front window, past the garden, through the “window” in the garden wall, and seeing him in handcuffs, and he was put into the back of a police car.
I always remember how lucky i was.
I occasionally wonder what ever happened to him, i never heard anything about him. my family and i don’t speak of it. I think we just all moved on with our lives. but hearing of the lives of people like jaycee make me remember; i sympathize with them, i feel connected to them. jaycee is lucky to be alive, she is lucky to have what she does, but i am so grateful that i got away that day.