My Mom, My HeroMy mother died in 1992. She was 74 years old at the time. A few years before that, she was a victim of a home invasion. Or perhaps I should say an attempted home invasion.
There she was, 68 years old; small, frail and timid.
A gentle lady who wouldn't even kill a a spider.
She preferred to carry them, as well as flies and
other critters, outside and release them.
One night, as she watched the 11 pm news,
she heard a noise from the back of the house.
She silently crept down the hall, listening for additional sounds.
Then she heard a scraping, sound and a ripping sound
and she was quite certain that someone was breaking into her home.
She stood outside the room from which the noises were coming.
Undecided about which course of action should be taken.
The telephone was in the living room at the front of the house,
and if she got there, before her house breaker got her,
and called 911, it might be 10 minutes before the police could get there.
A decision was called for, so she made one. She stepped into room,
turned on the overhead light and, seeing this young man half way through the window,
she quickly ran to the window and slammed it down on his back. He was trapped.
And in pain. And yelling at her to let him out and he would leave.
She wasn't about to do that, because she figured when she raised the window,
he'd slip into the house instead of backing out. But, having him trapped in the window
was only a temporary solution. He was only trapped as long as he couldn't raise the window.
And she couldn't go over and hold it down because his hands
were free and she was afraid he might hurt her if she got close again.
Not having access to the phone, and not wanting to have to get too close to him again,
she had another decision to make. And it had to be quick.
She grabbed the brass lamp off the dresser, ran to him and smacked him across the back
and then hit him on the head. By this time he was begging and making promises
and she hit him once more.
Then she ran to the living room and grabbed the phone which was on a very long cord,
dialed 911, and grabbed the brass lamp in the other hand and stood close enough to hit him
if he tried to escape, but not so close that he could reach out and grab her.
While she was on the phone with the 911 operator, explaining what the problem was,
her would be house breaker was crying and yelling at the operator to hurry up and
get the police there because she was trying to kill him. When they got there,
one went to the back of the house and called through the window telling her to go
and open the front door,and let his partner in so they could get the young man
out of the window and arrest him and take him away.
The crazy kid wanted to press charges against her for aggravated assault.
Assault with a weapon. Unlawful detainment. Attempted murder.
The police reminded him where he was while she did all that,
and told him that defending yourself and your home, was still legal.
When the police questioned her, they wanted to know why she didn't just go
out the front when she heard someone coming in the back. She said it just
never occurred to her to run away from the safety of her home.
The next day, she made herself a weapon, and kept it close by her for quite a while,
until someone told her that if she harmed someone with that, it would be illegal.
It really was a vicious weapon. She had taken the handle off a broom and hammered
three inch nails through the end of it. 5 or 6 of them.
Cut the broom handle down to about 3 feet long
and considered herself well prepared for next time.
She wasn't as timid as I had thought she was.
That's my mom.
My little old hero.
Gosh, I miss her!!