Have you had any near-kidnapping experiences?

In the wake of all these stories about Danielle Van Dam, Elizabeth Smart, and now Samantha Runion , I am reminded of a time when I felt my own person was in danger.

I don’t know if the man truly was attempting a kidnapping, but he did scare the bejeebers out of me. The story:

I was 11 and visiting my grandmother in Ohio. Just down the block from her house was a small convenience store; I decided to pay it a visit all by myself. I remember walking down the street (they all looked alike) and making note of the Coke machine in view, so I would be sure to take the right street back home.

Unfortunately, 3 streets had that machine in view–all three sides–and I didnt’ realize that until later.

Disoriented, I walked down the wrong street but still kept walking determinedly, knowing I’d figure this out eventually.

During this time, a very greasy looking man in a beat-up pea green station wagon pulled over by me and asked if I wanted a ride. “No!” I barked (as I had been taught to do). He shrugged his shoulders and drove on.

Apparently, he circled the block, because he was soon back, pulled over again, and this time tried “Hey, c’mon, get in the car.” “No!” “I’ll give you a dollar if you get in my car…” “NO!” With that, he threw his hands in the air and drove off. By this point, I’d figured out the way home and hastened my return. I sobbed on my grandmothers arms and was so terrified…I remember taking a bath that night and thinking, I could not be here right now.

Again, I don’t know the man’s intentions…perhaps he just noticed that I was lost and wanted to give me a ride. But the circling back to me, and bribing me with money… ::::shudder::::

Has anyone else had a similar experience?

Good for you!

There were a two times when I was 14 or so when I was walking late at night and had something like that happen. Both times a strange man in a car pulled over and asked me if I wanted a blow job. One even offered to let me look at his porn. Both times I said no and got the hell away from there not because I wasn’t interested (and I wasn’t) but because I couldn’t get the thought out of my head “get in that car and you’ll never get out!” I never heard of anyone else getting kidnapped though but it was still a scary experience.

I used to live near a relatively tony part of Evanston, just outside Chicago. I’d been to hang out with a friend who lived, literally, three storefronts away from me. I left his house pretty late at night, maybe 2 or so, and began walking home. The streets were deserted, and I heard and saw a small white car (a Toyota, I think) driving south, on the other side of the street. Although the car slowed down a little while it passed me, I thought nothing of it and kept walking. A half-block away the car stops, pulls a u-turn in the middle of the street, and begins driving north, towards me, on the same side of the street. I began to get a little freaked, and by this time (this is all in the space of maybe less than 10 minutes) I’m at the front steps of my house and have my key in the door. I get inside, and look through the peephole. I see the car pull up right in front of the front steps, the driver get out, walk a few steps up to the house (right where I was walking mere seconds ago), look around the yard, and then slowly get back in the car. I was so wired I stayed up all night, thinking that if I lasted until dawn, I would be okay. It didn’t help that I also lived on the ground floor.

When I was in fifth grade, our teacher asked my friend Rachel to carry a message to another teacher whose classroom was outside in a trailer. On her way back from delivering the message, this man grabbed Rachel’s arm and said something like “I’ve got you without any of your friends around.” She screamed, kicked him and ran back into the building to the girls’ bathroom where she spent the better part of an hour. When the teacher finally found her, Rachel was shaking and hysterical. When Rachel told me what had happened I got pretty upset, too. Still creeps me out to think of it.

I had a few encounters with perverts when I was little, but I don’t know how much real danger I was ever really in.

Um, I kidnapped my neighbor’s dogs, once, and gave them away. Two puppies in an aproximately 18" x 12" x 12" box for hours on end without water in the summer (where it seems like it stays in the hundreds most of the time). I guess that’s not what you mean, though.

My third year of college there was a series of rapes at nearby college, though none were reported on our campus. So everyone was very on edge.
I was leaving the library late one night and as I went down the stairs in the lobby I saw a strange man. Now, I went to a very small college. By November, which this was, you pretty much know who goes there. I thought, “That’s funny. I don’t recognize him. He doesn’t look like he goes here.” I proceeded down the stairs. So did he. Noticing this, I stopped and pretended to look at some posters. He stopped twenty feet behind me. I went to the post office doors. He followed, again about twenty feet behind me. At this point, I couldn’t think of anyway to explain his actions other than following me. I went back into the library, to the computer lab on the third floor. I was considerably freaked out, and I called my boyfriend and a friend who was with him to come get me and walk me home. I told them some creepy guy was following me. By the time they got there (in a rage) he was gone. Never saw him again.

Thanks, throatshot. I remember how horrified I was, but looking back, I’m rather pleased with myself that I stuck to my hell-NO-stay-away-you-freak guns.

Osiris, Adridne, brondicon: Do you find the whole memory somewhat burned into your brain? I still recall, to minute detal, what I was wearing that day. I was so spooked, I put those clothes in the bottom of a dresser and never wore them again. I remember the little bag of water ballons, which I bought at the convenience store, being gripped so tightly in my right hand that it ended up a mishapen hot plastic bag. I remember how it felt in my hand–the tension, the heat, the sweat. I remember thinking how stupid buying water balloons felt in light of it all. I never used them.

Oof. Strangely, I was so afraid I wouldn’t talk about it. I talked to my grandmother about it–actually, sobbed in her arms over it-but I never breathed a word of it to my mom (my grandmother later told her, of course, but Mom never talked to me about it–for years, I was afraid to tell her), and I also didn’t even write about it in my diary. I was too afraid, for whatever reason, and just wrote about buying water balloons.

Strange how the mind of a frightened child works.

Okay, before I start, things like this happened to me a LOT. I¡¦m not sure, maybe it was that big ¡§kidnap me¡¨ sign I wore. ƒº Anyway¡Klong post to follow¡K

First story, my friend Anna and I were walking home from a school dance. We were in grade 8, so that would make us, what 13 or 14? We were crossing a highway (going west) at the lights to get to her neighborhood on the other side when two cars full of guys went through the intersection and turned behind us, to continu north on the highway. As they passed they honked and hooted. It¡¦s important to note, this wasn¡¦t summer, it was a freaking cold day in November, snow drifts and everything. I got this ¡§feeling¡¨ shortly after we got to the other side and out of sight behind some bushes and I looked down the highway where the cars had gone. ¡§Anna, ¡§ I said, ¡§They are turning around.¡¨ We were a little freaked and ran up to the first street (there was a large open area, with railroad tracks, we didn¡¦t want to get caught there). They pulled up beside us.

¡§Hey, wanna ride?¡¨
¡§No thanks.¡¨ We answered.
Car stops, driver of front car opens the door and gets out, leans on the car and calls over the roof to us,
¡§We¡¦re lost, can you give us directions?¡¨
¡§No thanks¡¨ we said again.
¡§I can¡¦t hear you, can you come closer?¡¨
At this point, all the car doors suddenly swung open and we bolted, a small chase ensued. The guys got back in their cars and peeled after us. We ran up to the first house and began pounding on the door.
They drove away promising, ¡§We know where you live now and will be back later¡¨. Homeowners never answered.
We cut across the field (with the huge snowbanks) to make it home off the roads.

Next story ¡V (I have others, but these two were the scariest)

My ex-boyfriend and I were walking home from the local Macs store. It was late, but we weren¡¦t kids, I was 18 and he was 19. He wasn¡¦t a very big guy, that¡¦s important to note. Anyway it was late enough that there was almost no one on the road and everything was closed. Two cars full of guys (again, common theme?) about 8-10 total drove by us yelling crude stuff, we ignored it, we were one street away from home.

Imgaine my absolute shock when both cars screeched to a halt and all the guys jumped out and began yelling and running towards us? My ex and I took off as fast as we could towards this park that cut through to my street. We made it there but then my stupid lungs start gasping (getting over bronchitis), so we dove into some buses and hid. We stayed there for a full half hour while those guys thrashed around trying to find us and talking about what they would do when they did find us. Shakily, we made it home about an hour later.

:eek:

The closest I came to something like this was in college. I was attending CWRU in Cleveland, and the campus is pretty much right in the middle of the east side. I was walking to the shuttle stop one afternoon and a car pulled alongside the curb, driver’s side in, and the window rolled down. The guy had a big map of the city and looked confused. He asked me how to get to Coventry and, feeling helpful, I walked over to point it out on the map. As soon as I got within grabbing distance, he pinned my arm to the door and pulled away the map to reveal his tiny, pathetic excuse for a penis laying on his leg . I tried pulling my arm away but the guy was strong. He started jerking off, and I started shouting. A couple of guys across the street started running over and the pervert saw them coming and took off. I know this type gets their jollies from the exhibitionism and the shock of their targets, so there was little chance he meant me physical harm. Even so, I was pretty shaken up for the rest of the day and it took a while before I felt comfortable walking alone again.

bella

I know this is a serious subject, but I thought I’d relay a story that I forgot about until I read this thread.

When I was a kid, my friend’s mom came by the playground and picked us both up to give us a ride home. She decided to stop at a Quick-e-mart type store to get a few things. I was sitting in the back seat, and the windows were steamed up. I turned around and wrote “Help me! I’m being kidnapped!” in reverse letters on the window.

The next day my mother received a phone call late in the evening. Apparently, the writing remained visible when the steam evaporated. My friend’s father was pulled over on the highway by the state police. His car was searched and he was detained for some time on the highway until they ran some checks on him and were satisfied that he wasn’t a kidnapper.

Thank goodness he had a sense of humor! (my parents were NOT amused.)

Max

Poysyn, where the hell did you live that these things weren’t uncommon for you??

I’m hoping, in a way, that location had more to do with your misfortune than you just being…ah…unlucky.

Twice.

Six years old Hanging out with my friend out next to the road. A car load of people, males and females probably no older than their 20s IIRC, stopped and asked us if we wanted a ride. We told them no and they drove off.

Eight years old Riding my bike up the hill alone. A gold car with a black top and three guys in it (again, I think they were in their 20s) stopped at the corner below me and yelled at me to come to them. I ignored them and kept riding. Then they pulled up next to me. The driver told me to “get in the back seat”, patting the back of his seat at the same time. I exclaimed “No way!” flipped the bike around, sped home and told my mom what had happened. Unfortunately I didn’t get a license number because I was afraid to stick around long enough to do so. I did remember that the car looked “junky inside”. I think it was the way the driver instructed me to get in the back seat rather than asking if I wanted a ride that really freaked me out.

It’s a wonder so many of us make it to adulthood.

I guess so, not much to remember really. It was a dark night and the cars were absolutely pitch black inside, I couldn’t see anything, not even an outline. I know exactly where I was though. Mostly what I remember was my state of mind. I still had to walk a mile and a half up hill after the first one and man did I ever hightail it up that dark, dark street. Although I was a 14 year old boy, I was quite tall, already 5’10" yet I was very skinny, probably weighing 125 or 130. Perhaps why they didn’t get out and try to persuade me harder.


There was another time in Mexico. It was Thursday (Gringos don’t go to Mexico on weekdays) and I was with my friend. His legs were crippled from polio as a child so he decided to take a taxi. He was older and more experienced and I’d never been out of the coutnry before so I didn’t object. We got in and he told the guy to take us to a bar. So we got in and we drove, and we drove, and we drove. The further we got the more I became convinced we’d end up in some Mexican snuff film.

But then we finally got to this bar which apparantly pays cabbies to take the college kids down to his joint. So we sat there White ol’ me and my Korean friend drinking in this all Mexican bar, everybody was real nice, we sang a couple songs and the cabbie was there again when we left. Still that ride down was quite nerve racking!

I was an adult, walking to work sometimes before 5 am, so the street was dark and deserted. He stopped and asked where I was going and did I want a ride. I kept walking. He pulled over, got out, OPENED THE TRUNK, and came toward me. I spun around and screamed, “Get the fuck away from me!”

He backed off, and as he drove away, he yelled out the window, “I was only trying to help, bitch!” I was afraid he was just going to run me over on his way out.

Osiris That would have scared the crap outta me!

I had a colleague who was originally from Vietnam (born in Siagon during a rather “unstable” time). She would never, ever, EVER take a cab without a male escort. Apparently, back home (during chaotic times) it was fairly common for taxis to pick up women travelling alone or in pairs, then drive to a secluded area, then a couple of guys would get out of the trunk and they would have their way with the passenger(s).

Her absolute fear of cab drivers made the whole lot of us hypervigilant too.

[/lurk]

I was probably 14 or 15, (I just know I couldn’t drive yet, but I was into football enough to lift 5 times per week)… on this particular day my spotter and I were going to be lifting during the 4 to 7pm slot instead of the 7 to 10am slot (he had some weird conflict, and I didn’t care because that meant I could sleep in)…

So I wake up around 10am, I’m in my boxers, and I hear the doorbell… Since I’m home alone, I put on my robe and head downstairs to answer the door. As soon as I hit the first floor my trust worthy dog is at my side (he was restricted to the first floor, for parental reasons that I can only call idiotic).

I open the door with my beloved friend sitting at my side so I could scratch his ears… some random 30 something chubby guy begins his sales pitch. I interupt him at a lull in his monologue by simply saying something to the effect of “I’m just a teenager… I don’t have a job, I don’t have money. Come back when my parents are hear.” In hindsight I shouldn’t have let on that my parents were absent, my bad…

So this putz says “Oh, your parents aren’t here…” and takes a step into the doorway. This is when I watched my furry little milk-bone loving, shaggy best friend turn into an evil, snarling, drooling, growling, bristling killing machine… I grabbed my dog’s collar to keep him from lunging at this putz’s throat. I look at the guy, and simply say, “I’ve never scene him do this before… you might want to go away before you get hurt… because after he puts you on the ground, I’m gonna stomp the sh*t out of you”

I’ve never scene a chubby 30 something man run that fast since (or before)…

God I miss that dog.

[lurk]
DOH! and I even previewed… ok, I’m an idiot.

crap… seen, not scene…

alright, I’m tired, I suck at this english thing…

once again, I’m an idiot.

(rechecking post for stupidity . . . . . . ) whatever I missed this time, just proves I need more than 5 hours of sleep per night…

One time when walking home alone a man kept circling the block asking me to get in his car. He did it about 5 times, and I finally broke down. Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid me I got in. He then started talking about my breasts, asking if I were wearing a bra, if he could touch them etc. I was scared shitless, and jumped out when we got to a red light. I was 13.

RuffianI still remember what I was wearing too, a very baggy PIL shirt and a pair of jeans ripped off at the knee. I also never told anyone, except my sister about 5 years later, and now you guys.
I’m still creeped out just thinking about it.