ALWAYS take your cell phone with you!

The one evening I don't take my cell phone with me, is the evening I can't come to someone's aid because I can't call the police, damn it!  I tried to get someone else to do it, but they didn't. I can't believe how people REFUSE to get involved.

IT is a beautiful, balmy, breezy Sunday evening; perfect for a stroll with Vimy.  It's Father's Day actually.  We are walking along, when suddenly a low slung, sporty car careens into a driveway on the other side of the street.  I notice the Nova Scotia license plate right away, because I think,  "What an asshole!".  He reverses enough to block the path of a young woman in bright red leggings, who is walking briskly on the same side of the road. They exchange words, he tears out of the driveway, she keeps on walking, and he takes off at 100 KMH, gunning the engine, down the street. I continue to walk, observing her slightly behind me.  She is obviously upset. He returns, and now stalks her with his car. He is yelling at her through the window.  She, at one point, opens the car door, yells at him, slams it shut, and keeps walking. He keeps following her with the car.  By now we have come to an intersection.  He continues to harass her through the intersection, then pulls off in a parking lot, just ahead. Waiting for her.  I step out into the street as she crosses my path, and ask her if she wants me to call the police.Obviously stressed, she remarks, "Do what you want, but get his plate."  Of course, I CAN'T call because I am not home and for once, I DID NOT bring my cell phone. Maudit! I can only catch the first three letters on his plate.  Now there are cars lined up at the four way stop, because his shenanigans have slowed traffic. I look for a car with a couple inside, with the window rolled down, and yell to them that if they have a cell phone, to please call the police.  I briefly explain the situation, giving the three first letters on the plate. They nod, as if in agreement, then turn on the street where the young woman continues to walk. People stare at me as they roll to a stop, but NOT ONE, SINGLE person asked what was going on, nor offered any help.

I decide to keep following her, seeing that no one is coming to her aid by offering her a lift. However, she is a bit ahead of me, and when she crests a hill, she disappears from view. When I crest the same hill, I think I see her getting into a vehicle coming my way, but I can't be sure.  I don't see the stalker's car. It is S*O  frustrating.  I walk further ahead a bit, just on the chance I might see her. Those BRIGHT red leggings are a real beacon. There is no sign of her. She has disappeared into thin air.

I am so bothered by the entire incident, that when I get home forty five minutes later, I call the town police, and explain the whole situation. Apparently nobody has called. So much for hoping that couple did. I have to hope that maybe they gave her a lift?   The police call me back fifteen minutes later, and I repeat the whole story. They assure me that they will patrol the area, and be on the lookout, based on the information I have given them.

This incident brings back to mind a young woman by the name of  Kitty Genovese, who was raped, and murdered in NYC in the 60s.  Many, many (38 reportedly) people heard her cries for help, but NO ONE lifted a finger to help her. What is it with people, that they feel they have to mind their own business ALL the time, even when they know something is wrong? I just don't get it.