Srs subjects under a dark fishie moon

i don't think this will be a Happy Fun post. Sorry about that. i'm sure i'll be back to shiny perky bouncy wufkitndom soon enuf, so if Srs Subjects aren't your cuppa, pls do check back in a few days.

Its funny how things come up, come around, come about. i'm a long-time LiveJournal post-er, and recently got involved in a community thread about the merits of living in Cleveland. i'm very much on the pro- side of our fair yet troubled city - you can read the (now-locked) thread here, if you so desire.

In discussing pros and cons of living in the city, i happened to bring up the West Side Rapist. i've not told too many people this story, for various reasons. Perhaps mostly because there's ways i never felt it was 'that important'. i''m not quite sure why i'm telling it now; perhaps simply to have it said and done with.

In early 1983, i lived on Baltic Ave right at the Clifton/Baltic split. i had only recently left Cleveland Hts and the Coventry neighborhood. i was walking up to the Convenient on Clifton one evening, and noticed this guy apparently jogging. i'm pretty Aware of my surroundings, and in fact had been accosted on the street before, back in Cleveland Hts. So i kept him on my radar, so to speak. After i'd made my purchases and was ready to head home, i noticed him 'jogging' back behind me. Gee, workout suddenly took you in the opposite direction, fella?

i had gotten to within a couple doors from my house when he suddenly came up behind me, grabbed me w/one hand & dropped trou, began masturbating to try & get hard with the other. i knew he had been following me, so he did not have the element of surprise on his side. In reading about his case afterwards, this became one of his hallmarks: he would break in to women's homes, often knowing their roommates or children were sleeping a few doors away. He wasn't able to surprise me, but i was a little more fortunate.

He did not expect me to punch him.

Which threw him off just enuf to give me a break to run like hell and make it home. As i had only recently moved to the area (from Coventry) i didn't realize that i didn't live in Lakewood - i know, duh - so i called Lakewood police first. By the time i sorted out who i actually needed to talk to, i figured he was probably long gone and didn't bother calling Clevo police - after all, nothing ever actually "happened". :\

Fast forward a couple years when he finally got busted. i'm watching the evening news and they have his mugshot plastered all over the place. i take one look and say Holy shit, that's the dude that tried to rape me on Clifton a few years ago =:o In retrospect, i really, really regret not following thru and making a report at the time. i don't know that it would have *stopped* him; he seems to have had enuf of a chip on his shoulder that he was gonna do what he was gonna do. But it certainly makes one wonder.

i'm thinking i'd like to say more in this post about being a woman, safety, being objectified etc. As i mentioned, this was not the first time someone had attempted to grab me on the street, nor, sadly, would it be the last. i've not had any encounters for years (touch wood) but the last time, some late-teens gangbanger tried to grab me over in Collinwood, where i lived at the time. Once again, my temper actually came to my rescue - in that instance, i simply got all Huffy and unleashed a string of ghetto slang on him that again, threw him off long enough for me to make a get-away.

i'm certainly glad that i've been fortunate in each of these instances. i'm glad that i long ago learned that projecting an Attitude can often be an effective defense in and of itself. But it grieves me that even now, in the 21st century, this should continue to be an issue. i'm hesitant to ride my bike down to Tremont if i don't expect to be home until late, because i feel vulnerable out on the street at night on a bike. i'm not ~particularly~ scared; more that i am aware that i AM a single woman, certainly not as young as i used to be, and that i should perhaps not take the chances i would have when i was in my twenties.

This isn't very pithy or insightful or anything. Its awfully late and i really should be asleep. The subject came up, however, and it seemed maybe this is the time to get this story told and out of me. Last night i stayed up far too late with a friend and told some other stories, some that i've never spoken out loud to anyone before. Most of those stories - like why there's a razor-sharp, unscabbarded short sword by my door - are not ones i'm going to tell here or anywhere else. i'm just thinking that under this moon, it might be time for some things to be said.