The Fonz in a strange PSA

I’m not sure this video from 1984 would make it past the FCC censors of today even though the message is meant to protect kids. Even I felt uncomfortable. So caveat observator. Here it is:

The Fonz educated children on how to avoid being molested, kidnapped, or serenaded by pedos in overalls in this 1984 PSA.

[sources fasthugs via metafilter]

Watching this video reminded me of what happened to me many years ago…

I was attacked by a creep walking home one evening in the summer of 1981, July 29th to be exact (Charles and Diana got married that day). I was walking home alone from a fun day of floor hockey at the Michelin social club with my friends. I had about a kilometer to walk by myself after leaving my buddy Dominic at his place. I was a little nervous and in hindsight I should have called home for a ride, but I was a week away from 12 years old and I’d be darned if I was going to look like a sissy for calling for a ride home.

I was about halfway home I noticed a man following me and my spidey sense started tingling immediately. The faster I walked the more this guy was gaining on me until finally he was right behind me. I pretended to tie my shoe and let him pass me so I could keep an eye on him. The next street was a dead end street, then the town park and then two more houses before home. I was almost there.

The guy turned down the dead end street. Something bad was up then for sure as I knew everyone who lived on the street and he wasn’t one of them. As I passed the street he turned and came back toward me. He began to speak…

Bad guy, “Excuse me, do you have the time?”

Me, “I don’t have a watch, but I think it’s 10 something.”

Then he grabbed me and put my arm behind my back. He said, “Don’t scream or I’ll break your arm,” and began dragging me toward the woods in the park.

I started to cry and asked him what he was going to do to me.

He told me, “I’m going to suck your…”. You can fill in that last blank with a word that begins with C.

As soon as he said that I screamed, “No you’re not!”, broke away from him and ran for the nearest house screaming for help at the top of my lungs. He pursued me for a step or two and then must have noticed another person walking down the sidewalk as he took off up the street the way we came.

I got to the house, the police and my parents were called. Dad came and he and I spent some time in the back of a town police car looking for this creep. We didn’t find him. I did see him a couple of times that year but was too afraid and embarrassed to say or do anything, and he didn’t approach me again. Although I suspected the sicko was following me with his car a couple of times.

One of many weird reactions to that night was my never again wearing the bright red windbreaker I had on that night. I went as far as to hide it from myself in the top of the coat closet underneath the winter hats, mittens and scarves as I didn’t want to be reminded of it.

I never spoke of it to my friends and rarely spoke about it to my folks. The whole thing just kind of festered inside until I had a number of meltdowns in the early 90’s leading to some positive changes.

I did eventually find out his name, and am tempted to type it here, but as what happened was so far in the past I don’t know what if any good it would do to tell anyone that now. How did I find out? It was 12 years after the fact and my girlfriend at the time had been molested by her uncle for a number of years. We were at her grandmother’s house and looking through a family photo album. There with the uncle who had totured my girlfriend was the guy who hurt me. I was floored. I told them that this was the guy who had assaulted me and they told me his name. That old cliché ‘birds of a feather flock together’ sure did ring true that day. Ugh…

Almost 26 years has gone by and every time I think about those events I still feel the fear that I felt that night. I lost my innocence that day at the hands of that individual. I also suffered PTSD for years afterward. My reaction to what happened was not good to say the least. It obviously affected me adversely

I’ve looked for his address and contact information many times. I’d love to ask him why he did what he did, but I know in my heart he’d deny it ever happened at all.

Sometimes I think I should call the cops in my hometown and tell them I know who he is. Maybe I will, but another part of me just wants to leave it alone. I don’t know. It’s come up again for a reason…

Sorry for sharing something so dark. I just felt compelled.