So this whole Supreme Court madness has brought up memories for thousands of women that we have all tried to forget. I am struggling with my own. I don’t want to talk to family about it, they know, I don’t want them to have to think about these things too.
So I’m going to say them to the twitter void in the hopes that will allow me to stop seeing them every second of the day again.
I remember the shock of seeing her walking down the side of the road at dusk, a car crashed into the ditch behind her. I remember the realization that she was wearing nothing but a coat. And the blood from the thousands of small cuts.
I remember settling her in my house and telling her I would be right back with help, we were less then half a block from a fire station. I remember her saying that “he” was still out there, with a gun.
I remember watching police drive past, not knowing she was safe in my house. And I too remember the laughter of men, the ones who instead of coming with me to help her laughed when I told them I needed help. The didn’t believe.
I remember giving her clothes, and being told by the police that I couldn’t give her water to drink,or even a wet paper towel to clean up with. They said it would destroy evidence. I remember staying with her for hours as the only other woman, we were both 18
I remember listening to every horrible detail of what happened to her, and holding her hand. I remember them apologizing that they had no women police to sit with her because they hadn’t hired any yet.
I remember her begging for just one sip of water and being told no, but still having to answer questions. They couldn’t take her to the hospital yet. It wasn’t safe to move her. Because “he” hadn’t been found.
I remember having swat on my porch and my house being turned into a command center. The valley we lived in had been blocked off from everywhere trying to find “him” and the normal radios wouldn’t work in the valley for communication.
I remember they finally let a paramedic (a woman) come in and take her to the hospital after hours of going over the same details. The kidnapping and assault had only lasted 45 minutes. And I remember sitting in my quiet house, not knowing if I would ever see her again.
But I did. A couple weeks went by and she came to see me with her family. To thank me, and to replace the clothes the police had to keep. I never wore them, and always felt bad she thanked me, I didn’t feel I had done enough. We talked for a while but what can you really say
A few more months went by and I got a notice from the courts that I would need to testify. The lawyers told me what to expect. I remember they swore me in and asked me basic questions. And then “his” defense lawyer asked me if she had been drinking, or on drugs
I remember at the time being so confused by that question. Why would it matter. They knew “he” was a serial rapist who had skipped out on his parole and attacked her, he had shot at police. People had witnessed the kidnapping. But they still asked. Just doing their job
And then it was over. He went back to prison for life. And I was expected by everyone, including myself, to go back to normal life. But here’s the kicker, the only way I could do that is if I could forget. So I tried, because to always remember was too hard.
And I did forget a lot. I forgot exactly what year it happened, I forgot “his” name, or even what he looked like. But I never forgot the things that mattered. So this whole week I keep hearing people talking about what you would and wouldn’t remember.
And I keep wondering what she remembers. And I keep remembering that even with all the facts they had that showed he was undeniably guilty, I was still asked if she had been drinking or doing drugs. That’s what I remember
