Operator: 911 What’s your emergency?

Me: (breathless and panicked) A big man just attacked us and is now chasing us in his truck.

Operator:  Stop in a public place and wait for help.

Me:  We WERE in a public place!  He attacked us because we stopped.  No one helped!  We will not stop until we get to your station.

Operator:  Well, Ma’am, Where are you?  You need to find a place to stop.

Me:  I’m on (insert street here) and there is no place.

About that time G slammed on the brakes and swerved and the truck flew past us long enough for me to read the license plate and I yelled it into the phone.

Operator:  Well if you are being chased, how did you get his license plate?

As I am watching the truck try to either run us over or run us off the road, I couldn’t tell which, I screamed into the phone, “did you get the number!!????”

Operator:  I want to know how you got his plate?

I am afraid I swore at her then.  I mean, why did she need to know that second?  Just in case we died that was the most important question in the world?  What?  All the skid marks from the chase wouldn’t tell them anything?  I wasn’t in the mood for what I felt was stupidity at that moment.  I was scared and to the point.  I am not sure exactly what I said but it wasn’t nice.  Something like “did you get the (insert swear word here) number!?  I won’t remember the (insert swear word here) number and I doubt we’ll be in a (insert swear word here) position to get it again. If you tell me you got the (insert swear word here) number and I live long enough, I’ll tell you how I got the (insert swear word here) number if it is so (insert swear word here) important to you!!!!!”  Well, she told me that she got the license number and I explained how we got it while flying at break neck speed down a busy 5 lane road.

The guy finally peeled off us as we turned on the street the police station was on.   I told the operator we were outside but we had to wait in the dark to be let in. We were let into the lobby and told we had to wait for an officer to show up.  G was bleeding and beginning to swell so I asked for a paper towel with cool water or ice.  No, I was told.  I would have to drive down to the store to get some.  Yeah right.  Go right back where we got mugged in the same bright yellow sports car.  We declined.  When an officer showed up a half hour later to take our report she asked…”What side of the street were you on?”

Why would that matter?  Well it seems that one side of the street was one jurisdiction and the other side of the street was their jurisdiction and it furthermore the construction closed the side of the street that was their jurisdiction which was where the assault started even though he had chased us well into their jurisdiction. So, after that long and reasonable conversation…. (Notice a trend here?) We were told to go back to the corner where we were attacked and wait for the police from the other jurisdiction.  WHAAAATTTT!???

We both looked at her like she was the one who got knocked in the head. She must have figured out that wasn’t a good idea and so offered to escort us until the other officer arrived.   After about 30 minutes or so the other officer showed up and took our report.  He told us to give the Detectives a call on Monday or Tuesday.  Why couldn’t they look for him now?  Who knows.  So we went home.  Took some pictures of the damage…aka my husbands face and crawled in bed exhausted from our ordeal.

The next day the panic remained.  What if the guy was in a gang?  What if he knew where we lived?  Didn’t it have to be on the police report?  I mean, even if the guy went to jail his homeys or pals or whatever they were now called could elicit their revenge and our kids were teens and home alone.  What about them?  So we decided not to follow up.

On Monday morning we got a call from the detective.  He told us that this was a bad guy and he wanted to get him bad.  Would we be willing to press charges?  It could have been a misdemeanor assault and all the questions we asked ourselves we asked the officer.  He would know where we lived because it would be on the court documents.  Jail time would probably be minimal and yes it was believed the guy was in a gang.  There were no guarantees that our family would be protected.  We declined.

I still think about that night.  Did we do the right thing?  We now carry pepper spray in the car and a small bat.  I also have a concealed permit.  Would any of that made any difference if I had it then?   I don’t know.  It is hard to speculate. Does the fact that our kids grew up unharmed make up for the crimes that this man committed against others after our incident?   Fear that prevents action allows things like the holocaust but it sure feels different when you have everything to loose.  So readers,  What do YOU think?