Palliativity 178: Alive Day Memories

The very not a toy gun that was pulled on me:

It was one year ago, Saturday January 7, 2012 at 6:30PM that I made the panicked call to 911.

After teaching a judo class to kids with disabilities and wounded veterans, I planned to take the subway to meet my partner downtown for a concert. After I entered the turnstile,  three black youths grabbed at me, trying to steal my iPhone. I pick and rolled past them, and turned around with my hands held out and open. Then the leader pulled a gun from his jacket.

I ran.

Looking over my shoulder, the three men chased me. The gun was out in the open now, pointed at my back. GO GO GO!

Reaching the stairs, I flew down praying hard: THIS IS NOT HOW IT ENDS! I dropped my judo bag to trip them up as I decended.

I took one last look back up and saw the gunman atop the stair…

In total disbelief of being alive, I got safely down on the platform- back against the wall.

No shots rang out. They did not follow me down.

Miraculously as I was calling the police, a National Guard in full tactical gear and a sidearm came to my aid. He rushed back upstairs, apprehended and cuffed my three attackers single-handedly.

I stayed on the line until a policeman came and retrieved me. Each step I ascended was a gift. When I reached the top of the stairs, the station was filled with men in blue with flashing lights of red. My three attackers stood there cuffed and surrounded.

The gunman with tears in his eyes pleaded with me, “Tell em, I dint do nothin!”

The policeman asked me to identify the men.

With fire and cold vengeance I said, “These are them. All three of them. (pointing) The crying one had the gun. YOU’RE ALL FUCKED NOW! It’s over.”

I left the train station with my police escort. I climbed into the back of his chevy tank that sat in the Apple Store fountain.

I asked the officer if I could make a phone call on our way to the station. Shaking, I looked out the window as we passed by the white and glass Apple cathedral as we reentered trafic.

I dialed my partner, “Don’t panic. I’m okay now, but…”

From start to end, this all transpired in a mere five minutes.

Along the course of this past year of courtrooms and telling my story over and over, the three assailants were all found guilty.

• • •

It just so happens that a year to the day of the incident, Karma walked into the room.

Back at the dojo this past Monday, our friendly neighborhood cop stopped by. He himself is a martial artist and was at the station the night of my attack. On this day, the Officer came in with a young black man in tow. He introduced the kid, saying he was a bright young man from the neighborhood. The kid comes from a difficult family situation and is in need of more positive role models, discipline as well a healthy outlet.

Like I said: Pure Karma.

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