Conference quark::human_relations-v1

    I had an experience...there was a gun but it wasn't pointed at me
    and I wasn't threatened.  
    
    I was very scared but when it was over I congratulated myself on
    doing the right thing (giving him the money).  It happened right
    in front of my house and when it is dark and when I come home alone
    I always watch.
    
    What bothers me is I don't know how he got there...I didn't see
    him until he was there.
    
    The gun was huge....but he kept it tucked close to his stomach.
    
    The police came and within minutes after my description they had
    a suspect.  It was not the man...and I was relieved.
    
    You are fortunate that you came out of it alive and I think you
    can attribute that to the fact that you did the right things at
    the right time.
    
    Take care.
    

    I was involved in a similar sutiation some time ago  while working
    in a store on Riverside st. in Lowell, Ma. 
    
    Two males walked in to the store and both had revolvers in their
    hands. If you noticed, I have hands in the plural because they had
    both hand on the weapon and they were just shaking the weapons up
    and down.
    
    At this point, I realized that they were amateurs and you just don't
    argue with them. You can always make more money and the one you
    lose is partially covered by insurance.
    
    However, the feeling does not go away quickly. It will take months
    for you to get over it. On the lighter side, you were not harmed
    and for that be thankful.

         Jim,
         
         My experience was with knives...not a gun. But FWIW,
         here it is...
         
         I came home from work about 2 hours early one day.
         I had an infant in the car, asleep. I drove up our
         rather long, off the road drive way to see an old
         beat-up Nova in our yard...doors open. 
         
         My husband often has people stop by to pick up material
         that he leaves out, so I initially had no misgivings.
         
         I pulled in beside the car and then noticed that
         the bulk-head door was open. I stepped out and into
         the cellar [first really stupid move] and had this
         absolutely eerie feeling of total quiet. You know,
         the kind that is artificial....stepped right back
         out of the cellar. [well, that was a bit smarter]
         
         I went around to the porch and staring at me from
         the open door was a young man holding a butcher knife.
         Smiling.
         
         There was a 2x4 laying on the ground [new construction
         house...]. I cannot explain what I did...it was the
         most stupid thing I have ever done...without
         exception...I picked it up and I went for him. If
         I could have caught him, I would have killed him.
         I am cold certain of it. I would have beaten him
         for breaking into my house until he was dead.
         
         I didn't catch him. Or his pal. But the police did.
         But they were juveniles so they were out on the streets
         in 4 hours. And they would come back to the house
         and drive up and down the street, making sure I would
         see them. I thought I would go crazy. I didn;t want
         to be alone...I couldn't stay by myself at night...I
         jumped a foot everytime someone walked up to me...and
         I still wanted to beat the *sh*t* out of them.
         
         I felt violated. They ruined some of my
         furnishings...they stole things that had no value
         but to me...they were *in* my house! They made me
         fell unsafe in my house.
         
         In the end...I accepted my anger as OK...and don't
         feel guilty about it anymore...and I let my need
         for revenge go a little at a time until I felt OK
         about that also. And about them driving up and down
         the street....I had a chat with the local small-time
         drug pusher...within a week one had a broken leg
         and the other a broken arm...and they didn't bother
         me anymore.
         
         I guess I should feel some marginal guilt about that,
         but I don't.
         
         Melinda

    
    
    	I had a similiar experience, however, it was not in
    	the U.S.  It was in Caracas, Venezuela.  My husband
    	and I were out shopping on our vacation and it was
    	about supper time.  My husband and I were the only
    	customers in the store besides 2 women clerks. My
    	husband observed 2 men looking in the store window.
    	The next thing I knew my husband told me very quietly
    	to hid my gold chain and my gold bracelet slowly
    	making sure it went into my bra.  These 2 men were
    	out to rob the store and us.
    
    
    	Luckily, they didn't find our jewelry and they made
    	off with only a few leather briefcases.  I was
    	shaking, needless to say, because I had never experienced
    	this before in the U.S., let alone a foreign country.
    
    	After that paranoia set in.  I wouldn't go anywhere
    	with my husband.  I'm just thankful that nothing happened
    	to either one of us and for my husband's quick thinking.
    	Somebody must have been watching up above.
    
    	
    	                          Shelly
    

    
    There is a condition called "Post Traumatic Shock Disorder". It
    has been called "Battle Fatigue" and even (WWI) "Lack of Moral Fibre".
    It happens to people who have been under intense pressure, and it
    produces feelings such as those described in .0
    
    The best suggestion I can make is go talk to a psychologist (perhaps
    the Employee Assistance Program can help?) 
    
    Yes... I've been there (or at least something broadly similar), and
    yes I had much the same feelings. It's perfectly normal. Be thankful 
    you weren't shot, and bear in mind that doing what the gunman tells 
    you is considered the right thing to do - even though it often leaves a 
    feeling of inadequacy afterwards.                             
    
    /. Ian .\
    
    

    Re: .4
    
    For what it's worth, I don't think you had any reason to feel guilty.
    Years ago my apartment was broken into and I felt the same anxiety.
    I did not feel safe.  I felt violated.  I was lucky that I did not
    come home to catch the guy in the act, because either I would have
    killed him or he would have killed me.
    
    Since they got brazen enough to drive up your street and add to
    your terror, a broken leg and broken arm are getting off easy in
    my opinion.  It's one thing to rob someone and quite another to
    parlay that into senseless, terrifying, harassment.  That is the
    part that would make me even angrier (if that would be possible!).
    
    It is sometimes hard for peaceful people to understand, but the
    threat of serious harm backed up with "some persuasion" such as
    the broken leg and arm are the only things some people understand.
    
    Steve
    

    <I too had a similar expierence. When I was in high school my boyfiend
    and I picked up a couple well dressed hitchhickers-mistake- thought
    they had gotten dumped!
      As soon as they got in the car they pulled knies against my throat
    adn my boyfriend's at the time, took his knife away so he could
    drive without getting us into anto an accident. Unfornutely The
    man behind me didn't tkae his knife away from my throat until they
    had reached their destinatin. Shakin?? I was bakin and shakin!
     I was underage but still had a stiff drink to relieve the nerves!
    Today I can say we did the right thing! Then I said the only mistake
    we did was to pick them up, to give in saved my life and probably
    his.
      Tell yourslf over and over again it is ok. You are alive and you
    did what anybody who wanted to live would've done! 
      Talk to someone that can help you toget over "IT" mentally
    
    Lisa

    Thanks for replying and sharing your experiences.  I've talked with
    a therapist about it and everyone around me say's that I did the
    right things.  I've worked in the store since, I was shaky though
    and a lot more suspicious.  I have an urge to take a proactive part
    in identifying this guy and I dont know it its a smart thing to
    do.  I am also trying to put this behind me, but it seems like small
    things bring it back, a reminder from a movie, sounds in the middle
    of the night etc.
    
    thanks again..
    
    jim

    
    � ...  I have an urge to take a proactive part in identifying this guy 
    �      and I dont know it its a smart thing to do. 
    
    If that means you have an urge to go out and look for him, then
    it isn't a smart thing to do. It is perfectly understandable, but
    it isn't smart...
    
    One thing that I have seen recomended incidentally is on the lines
    of getting on a bike after you've had a fall: find a local gun club
    and take a few lessons on gun handling. No I don't mean buy a gun,
    but just handling and firing one may help to overcome some of the
    reaction to the hardware that sometimes comes with this sort of
    trauma.
    
    /. Ian .\

    .10 sorry didn't mean going looking, but perhaps another trip
    to police station to look at photo's or asking others in area
    for leaked information to give to police.
    
    i'd thought about getting a pistol permit for the first time
    and also learning how to handle a pistol, my brother made similar
    suggestion.  
    
    i'm sure this guy is a customer that comes in the store in the am,
    mom & dad are sure they have seen him.  the thing that scares the
    shit out of me is i'm sure we will come face to face again and just
    from experienceing him i know that i will know him.
    
    i wonder what i will feel then?
    
    JIM

    
    Some victims keep going back to the police over and over again to
    look at mug shots.
    
    The feeling that you have seen the assailant before is also widely
    reported.
    
    I can only say the feelings are normal, and fade with time and
    counselling. 
    
    /. Ian .\

    
    The last guy that robbed the store turned out to be a customer.
    I could not believe the number of faces I did recognize in the
    shots at the ps (most customers).
    
    the thing that scares me is what if this guy comes back in and
    I do recognize him, not sure how I will react.  My sister who was
    there the first time got shaken up, she was able to identify him
    though.
    
    I've heard hipnosis can help in recalling a better description
    is this true?
    
    jim             
    

This note started me thinking. I have never been robbed, mugged or
brutally murdered. Did I ever have a terrifying experience? 

Then, it came back to me. It was in the 1967 war. My unit was
stationed on the outskirts of a small air field. We had been in
readiness for a couple of weeks, with no action in sight. 

One morning, we awakened to news. War had actually broken out. To
prove HQ was not lying, the air field was bombed by mid morning.
There was one casualty. 

Late that evening, we were shelled. Everybody jumped into shallow
fox holes, people piling one on the other, in layers. I was in a top
layer, which was more comfortable, but left my back unprotected. 

For anyone who has never experienced being shelled, let me mention
that I am hard pressed to think of any other sensation that is less
pleasant. I was scared stiff. Shells were going off right and left
all around us. 

Then, I realized our foxholes were less than a hundred yards from
the ammunition pile. The ammunition was in a hangar, piled all the
way from ground to top, about a hundred fifty feet on the side and
30-40 feet high - tons and tons and tons of it. Had it been hit, it
would have gone up like a small nuclear bomb. 

Talk about terrifying experiences... I still remember the short 
hairs on the back of my neck stiffening up. Somebody yelled :"the 
ammunition dump". After a couple of seconds, the realization hit 
everybody and we all jumped out of the foxhole into the sea of 
exploding shells and ran.

I think we set a new world record for short distance running that 
night. After we got a couple of hundred yards away, we recollected 
our courage, regrouped and actually crawled back to the same 
foxholes. I think I was sorry I had yelled.

Needless to say, the ammunition pile was not hit that night. Neither
was anyone hurt during the hour and a half of intensive, dense
shelling. Next morning, the field was strewn with shell fragments;
several were a couple of feet from "my" foxhole. This brings to mind
a biblical (I think) expression, which --loosely translated-- means
"God guards the dolts". 

-- Ron

    A friend of mine had this experience about 10 or so years ago:
    
    It was late at night (11 or 12ish) and she had fallen asleep in
    bed (a sofa bed in the living room of her apartment).  She lived
    on the first floor of a 2 family home in Charlestown.  There was
    a light on and the tv was on as well.
    
    She heard a knock at the door which wasn't unusual at that time
    since the 2 college aged sons of the family upstairs (which were
    also long time family friends of hers) often stopped in if they
    thought she was still up.  She went to the door and started to
    open it, saw 3 men outside that she didn't recognize and started
    to close the door.  They pushed it open and came storming through
    and held her at gunpoint.  She thought for sure that this was it--
    gang rape and murder.
    
    While this was going on, the family dog upstairs started going nuts
    so the father came down with the dog to investigate.  There he saw
    the 3 men pointing a gun at my friend, shouting questions at her
    and her just standing staring at them in shock.
    
    Turns out they were ununiformed policemen.  Two were detectives
    from the downtown force and the third was from the local force.
    The downtown guys had gotten a "hot tip" that someone at that 
    particular street address--but in East Boston, not Charlestown--
    was harboring a criminal.  So, not only did they get the address
    wrong but when they saw my friend's name on the mailbox and it was
    "Smith" , they assumed that they "had their man".  
    
    Worse still, even when they knew that they had screwed up, they
    insisted on searching the apartment--just to make sure.
    
    My friend is a very sensitive and emotional person and it took
    her months to get over the total fear and trauma and then years
    to get over the anger and feeling of invasion.  
    
    To the city police department's credit, they did try to make it
    up to her by offering to pay for any counseling she needed and in
    other ways too.  (As one local policeman told her, "You could have
    the biggest, wildest party in centuries and it would be overlooked.")
    
    My friend, being the person she is, didn't take advantage of any
    of their offers except for talking to some of them to try to let
    them know how much damage this kind of carelessness causes.
    
    To this day, however, she hasn't forgotten the feeling and after
    affect feelings of the incident.
    

    re:.15
    
    I can easily believe they tried to make it up to her. If they
    burst in with guns, without first identifying themselves as
    police, and without a search warrant, she could've taken the
    city to the cleaners.
    
    --- jerry

    
    About 10 years ago I was coming home from work at the Moss Landing
    magnesia works when I was suddenly pulled over by a posse
    of lawmen. They had their heaters out, pointing them at me and
    shining their spotlights on my rearview mirror. Since I was
    listening to "Dragnet" on the car radio at the time, I thought the whole
    incident was a dream. The guns were real enough, especially the
    shotgun being held by one shaking young police cadet. They made me
    lay down in the middle of Main street and searched me while they 
    held a pistol to the back of my neck. 
                          
    After they discovered I wasn't anyone they'd be interested in, they
    laughed and joked about how they made me sh*t my pants.
    
    I visited the police station to demand an apology a few days later
    and was cheerily told that I was pretty lucky I was Anglo. They
    said if I had been a Chicano they would have been a little more
    playful and I shouldn't make a big deal out of it.
    
    Since then cops have been in a tie with child molesters as my least 
    favorite people.