(This article may contain a trigger.)
I was listening to classic rock and a song came on that brought me back to some of the scarier, yet I survived times. That led me to ask myself, “What if I hadn’t listened to my inner warning bells?” One incident stood out to me that really highlighted this question.
Now mind you, my experiences are not typical and I can’t tell you how I would handle this type of situation today.
Story Time
I worked at a radio station when I was 18 years old or so and still living at home. Though the station employed a few females, the majority were men.
As I did every work day, I parked in the back of the building and headed for the back door which opened up to the kitchen. Unlike most days, I opened the door one day and stopped. I was greeted by the sight of a lot of men with no-nonsense energy and wearing dark jackets that read “FBI”. These men were going through the kitchen. It was total chaos and I didn’t understand what I was watching.
The freezer door stood open and was empty. An agent was at the sink and putting everything, including ice cubes, in a strainer and running hot water over it while other agents emptied the fridge and cabinets. They all stopped and turned to look at me. A silent agreement went through the room and all but one agent went back to what they were doing. One single agent left the kitchen.
I decided to go in so I moved forward and pulled the door shut behind me. I figured I’d just take my lunch to my desk until the FBI was done doing…whatever that was.
I headed down the long hallway to go to my desk and was intercepted by Teddy Bear. No, that wasn’t his real name. He was a large man, tall and wide; his frame was a bit intimidating to others. He was also a part-time sheriff. But I had learned early on that he had one of the most beautiful energies I’d seen in a long time, and told him that I wasn’t intimidated by him. I let him know that I knew he was just a soft teddy bear inside…hence the name.
He told me he needed to talk to me, now. He escorted me into an unoccupied room where he motioned for me to sit down. He sat across from me. “Are you okay, Jan?”
“Well, yeah, just a bit confused by all the FBI people here. What’s going on?”
He explained that the FBI had interviewed everyone at the station except me, and that he requested for – and was granted – permission to interview me.
“Okay, about what?”
He took a slow deep breath. “Have you been out with, or dated, DW?”
This seemed rather random to me. “What? No, I haven’t.”
“Are you sure, Jan?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I’ve not been out with him ever.”
His energy moved into sheriff investigative mode. “What’s your relationship with DW?” ... Read More
by Jan Toomer
