As I read the interviews and watched videos about the Charles Ramsey story, my mind reverts back to that day, that scene…
As we were driving along, I began to feel the tension rise in his voice like a pot on a hot stove that’s about ready to boil over. Mad about nothing in particular really, it was just his form of control. Mental control, physical control, just control period! A control, sadly, he did not have in the world. In his world he felt weak, a failure, and rejected. So he choose to gain authority by controlling me, a demure, 90-pound little girl practically. There we were, driving down some street, I don’t even remember the name. I do remember his voice began escalating. I had been in this scenario too many times before, I knew what was coming next. “Bam!” A blow to the side of my face as I sat on the passenger side of the car. Before the z’s could stop circling around my head, “bam!” another blow to the face! I opened the car door and proceeded to run. He got out, chased me down the street, dragged me by my hair back to driver’s side of the car. It was as if it were all happening in slow motion. I saw colors: a red shirt, a white wife beater, blue shorts, faces on the side walk, children in the street, all the while he was kicking me in my face while simultaneously punching me in the head. Although my voice was forced silent, my eyes were screaming for help as they locked on this man’s eyes standing on the sidewalk. I was being beaten so viciously my mouth could not utter one word. The man, he shook his head at me, laughed, and went back into his house! Not only was I being attacked by one person, but by all those eyes…just looking…just staring…doing nothing.
I can’t help but to think, what if Charles Ramsey had been around in my day? Just maybe…just maybe had he been around in my day, my scarred emotions would have healed faster than my scarred face. Just maybe my broken spirit would have healed faster than my broken nose. Just maybe, I too, would have been rescued from the hands of my abuser.
Just maybe…because of Charles Ramsey, I can now pick up my American dignity off of the floor where it was stomped on, kicked, punched and spat on; and proudly wear it on my back, stand up straight, tall and proud; assured that society has not indeed lost its compassion, lost its bravery, lost its heroism!
That it is still the America that values a woman’s life, a mother’s life, a sister’s life, a daughter’s life! For that, I thank you Charles Ramsey!
Let’s come back together as a community; neighbors who know each other’s names, who watches out for each other’s children, and most importantly, neighbors who help one another in time of need!