Robbed At Gunpoint
So I’ve emailed this to my entire contacts, and posted this on the Xbox.com Forum, but this needs to be on my blog – one of the only safe havens I have.
Here is a copy of the email I sent out:
I can’t believe I would ever have to write a message like this in my life, but things happen and life just can’t be predicted.
I was on my way home from college tonight, I got off at the bus stop [like I’ve been doing for the last two years of my college life], 7 blocks from where I live and was right by on 163rd Street where two black men in their teens pointed a gun to my head and demanded I give them what I have on me.
Afraid for my life, I listened to their demands, and they took my backpack with all of my college work, went into my pockets and took my wallet with my credit card, bank card, college ID, and my cellphone. I saw them run off, and immediately went into a restaurant which was just 5 seconds away from where the incident took place.
I ran in frantically and told them I was robbed at gunpoint and there was two nice men who assisted me. They called 911 and I talked to the police. All I could remember was what shirts they were wearing – I could not identify their faces as it was dark outside, and of course the trauma of it all did not help the situation. I wish the government could go into my brain and get the ID’s, but I don’t think the technology is available yet.
The worst part of it all – the most I was thinking about – was not all of the monetary items that was stolen from me, but all of my college work. All of my notes – my entire semester – gone. In an instant. I’m thankful my life was spared.. but my education is my life – and it just felt life was ripped away at the moment.
I’m going to have to try my best to really finish this semester – I know I’ll go on and I’m not going to let this bring me down.
It’s a very traumatic event – yes – but I can’t – and will not – let this event drive me insane.
I’ll just leave off with a quote that is at the top of my head for some reason:
- This is the way the world ends
- Not with a bang but a whimper.
Edit, Update: In December 2011 there was a meeting in my city focusing on the risen crime rate in the area. The following is an email to government officials and the like urging them to please help:
Dear Honorable Mayor Carlos A. Gimenez and Honorable Mayor George Vallejo, and to whom else it may concern:
Hi, my name is (name removed). I am a graduate student at Barry University. I live in North Miami Beach.
I recently started winter break and it’s a good thing because I have not been able to sleep.
I received an email from my father Monday night that there is a meeting on December 21st to address the crime in the Miami-Dade community.
This email brought me to tears.
Why is that?
Because I was robbed at gunpoint two years ago.
Allow me to share my experience, in providing a personal account to crime in the Miami-Dade area, which needs to be addressed more vigilantly.
After a long day of college, I got off the H bus and started walking home.
At 8:30 p.m., right by Bank of America at 1199 NE 163rd Street in North Miami Beach, I felt an overwhelming darkness overcome me. It sent chills everywhere.
I ignored my feelings and continued to walk.
A few steps later, I heard rapid footsteps, which seemed like they were in every direction.
By the time the sound subsided, I was looking face to face at two men–two young boys, actually, of maybe 14 or 15 years of age.
One of them was in front of me.
The other, behind me, had a gun pointed to the side of my head.
I could feel the tip of the gun pressing into my skull.
Trembling, I asked, “What do you want?”
One responded, “Give me yo stuff!”
So I proceeded to take off my backpack. I did not want to part with it, as I had all of my college work in there.
But they took it.
And then one of the boys proceeded to pat me down.
“Wallet and phone!! GIVE THEM!”
So I did not hesitate and gave the wallet and cell phone to them.
“HAHA!” Yelled one boy with a sense of accomplishment, as they opened the wallet to see that there was a credit and debit card, with some cash, only $40. I’m a college student, after all.
Then they both disappeared into the darkness from whence they had emerged.
I was left with my windbreaker jacket, feeling shocked and confused…
I ran into the restaurant right next door, with tears frozen in place, and told a man what had happened.
He called the police. And then he asked me what my mother’s number was. I was nervous giving it to him because I did not want her to know, as she gets so emotional. I usually end up supporting her instead. But I gave him the number, and he spoke to her, as I was for a loss at words.
She came to the scene faster than anything I’ve ever seen.
I don’t remember who arrived first, the police or my mother.
That’s Mom, you know.
She was strong, and she and the man helped me get my words out when the police were asking me questions.
The police asked me what the boys looked like and what they were wearing, but I did not know. I couldn’t get a good visual on them, even though they had been right next to me. It was dark and I was too shocked to remember images.
The police got down as much information as they could and assigned me a detective.
My father came home a few hours later and worked constantly with the detective over the next few days.
A week later, my credit card was found. It was in the pants of one of the boys.
The police caught a boy stealing a car. I don’t know if they caught both of them. I just wanted all of this to end.
I did not want to go out anymore–especially at nighttime. I was afraid of people walking in the streets.
I stopped taking the bus that night. My classmates gave me rides home from then on.
This traumatic event haunted me for awhile, and continues to do so at times.
I don’t really know what closing down thirteen of the seventeen access points in our small community means, but I have a feeling that won’t solve everything.
The answer, I believe, is in the lost souls.
Children, teenagers, and young adults. Living right near us.
There are many who are crying out in the darkness, surrounded by people who are not positive role models.
These individuals may also be bullied in school. They may also be the bullies. Some may not even go to school.
But as a community, we have to be more aware of helping others to make an impact on those who may be susceptible to committing crimes.
We have to step up, be a mentor, and support those who may succumb to darkness.
I myself, will volunteer to help out, once a week or more, if I can, to support those who may be in pain or in need of some positive social support, perhaps those also leading to a destructive path. However, I would be worried for my safety.
Let me know when and where I can help.
I am asking you to help out anyway you can. However you feel will make our city more safe.
This is just my understanding of what happened to me and how I feel we can prevent and minimize these terrible scenes.
It is a miracle I am alive today sending you this message. So I beg you, please help make more miracles in our community.
Here’s to a better city.
Thank you for your time.