The Final Straw – The Stalkers Arrest

Stalker

It is hard to finally write about this series of events; just know my hands are shaking as I type and I had to meditate into a pretty deep calm before writing.  The above photo is the actual mug shot of John.  I’m trying to plow through this event no matter what; I’m determined to get this written out.

After the event at my sister’s house, about a week later, I was able to finally speak with my dad Clint.  Clint owned a motel at this time about 350 miles from me up in the mountains.  Clint was a busy man, so we could go for weeks without speaking.  I called dad to tell him about what had happened at Sis’s house with John.  He listened carefully and asked what he looked like.  After describing John, dad said “Honey I’ve met John”.  At that moment I still remember the feeling of my heart drop into my gut, it was the sickest feeling to date.  I asked him to explain further.  Apparently this fuck-stick drove 350 miles to meet my dad, went to dad’s motel and introduced himself as one of my friends from high school.  He showed up with a snowmobile on the back of his truck, said he was “passing” through and remembered my dad lived there and thought he would stop to say hello and meet my dad.

My dad, being one of the most friendly men I know, invited him in.  Showed him the house, pictures of me and my lifetime on his walls, toured the motel and then invited him to the bar for a drink.  Dad said that John asked questions about me, such as “What was she like as a little girl”, “What were her hobbies”, “How often does she come to visit”, “Is she coming to visit soon”.  Then proceeded to tell my dad what a nice girl I am, what fun I was in high school and how kind I was.  John received more information about me in that short 2 hour period then he had for the past year and a half.  As dad told me all of this, I cried and shook uncontrollably, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.  A level of panic struck me that I can’t explain.

This was on a Sunday that I spoke with my dad, so the next morning after a night of restless sleep, I got up and went straight to the county court-house where I obtained the temporary restraining order.  I knew John worked in the basement of the court-house, but I was so scared and so pissed off, I didn’t care.  I went straight to the courtroom where I got the TRO to see the same judge.  I barreled into the court room and stood at the front seating area and stared at the judge with tears in my eyes just shaking.  The judge looked at me, cocked his head sideways and put his hand up to the attorney who was presenting and asked him to stop speaking.  The judge said “I remember you, you have a TRO on a man who works in our building correct?”  I replied “Yes sir, and I need help now!”  The judge ordered a temporary recess and asked the bailiff to escort me to the judges chambers, I sat down and he asked what was happening.  I told him everything that had transpired from the moment the TRO took place and how scared I was and how the local city police were just blowing me off.  He got on his phone and asked for a sheriff to come to his chambers.  Then called the local city police Chief and told him what had been happening.  After the sheriff arrived, the judge explained that the sheriff would be driving me to the police department and that I would be meeting with the chief of police and their lead detective.  That I needed to stop at my house on the way there and pick up any evidence, basically all of the letters, video’s and gifts.

I had no problem with that, I couldn’t believe it!  For the next 5 hours I spent telling the story in detail and provided the evidence.  The detective and Chief told me that I was dealing with the “Poster child” of stalkers.  That they would be charging him with a Class 5 felony of stalking and harassment.  That it typically was a Class 6, but because he used the Government Postal Service to harass me, it was considered a stronger felony.  They were going to head out to the court-house and have him arrested immediately.  Yet to understand that he’d most likely make bail and only stay one night in jail.  Then the detective advised me to buy a gun, that once again I was only protected by a piece of paper.  They advised me to have a safe person I could call every morning on my way to work of when I was leaving and then when I arrived.  To do the same when returning home.  That my safe person needed to know my whereabouts at all times and if I didn’t check in on the set schedule we agreed to, my safe person was to call the detective immediately.  They increased the police presence on my street in addition.  After receiving a great deal of apologies from the detective and the Chief for their officers failure to comprehend what was actually happening, I had a sense of relief, yet more fear.  Retaliation was eminent, and I had to be prepared.

Upon leaving the police department I went straight to a local gun shop and started my purchase of a hand gun that would be easy for me to use and carry.  Nickle plated snub nose .38 special to be exact.  I’m no stranger to guns, I was shooting them by the time I was six years old with my dad on the ranch.  His name in this story is Clint for a reason, and where I live we have the “Make my day” law.  I signed up for classes to get comfortable with my new shooter.

This was the starting point of a whole new level of fear, I chose Kojak to be my safe person and I now had to wait for the next steps.  That evening the detective called me at home and let me know they had John in custody and that he would be spending the night in jail until his arraignment the next morning.  That John was an arrogant ass during his interview process, John labeled the judge and said the judge was a complete asshole and emphatic that he had done nothing wrong to me. Then the JUDGE called me that night and was extremely kind and reassured me, he also told me to know that he did not believe in any coincidences, that if I happen to “run into” John at the store or gas station, that I needed to call the police immediately.  He said “This guy is on my radar, and I will make his life a living hell here at the court-house if I hear he violates the permanent restraining order that will be placed on him tomorrow at his arraignment”.  DAMN! Vindication!

I had a new level of fear AND I was pissed off even more.  Not at the police, but at John.  My old fear turned into anger and I actually prayed I would run into him “coincidentally” so I could shoot him in the face.  Fear and anger combined equals SURVIVAL!  As I write this 16 years later, I still have that same feeling.  I have a conceal carry permit and I swear IF I ran into John again, I will blow his face off.

That night knowing he was behind bars, I slept soundly and deeply.  But that was only for one night.

To be continued…..

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