eye95
Well-known member
Normally, I can only hear muffled sounds from my neighboring apartments and only when they are loud. So it was surprising when I heard what sounded like a woman saying, "Get off me!" loudly enough and clearly enough for me to unmistakably understand--even with my normally tricky hearing. I had just gone to bed, and the exclamation seemed to be coming from the apartment below. It could have been something harmless like a pet jumping into her lap or even some friendly wrestling.
However, when the demand was repeated over and over, got even louder, and took on a screaming rather than just yelling quality, I took note. The constant "Get off me!" was now being interspersed with "No!" "Stop it!" and "Don't do that!" so I decided to try to find the source of the screaming, and see if I could help. I went downstairs and stood at the door. I could hear the TV in the front room, but could not make out what was on it. From what seemed further back in the apartment, I could make out the same four demands I had heard from my bedroom. I knocked on the door. The demands ceased, but the TV kept going. After waiting about half a minute, I heard muffled voices but could not make out what was being said. I knocked again and asked if anyone needed help. Still no reply but again the voices stopped.
Later, the demands of "Get off me!" started again. I pounded on the door and asked if I needed to call 911. Not knowing what was going on made me hesitant to take that step. By this time, another couple from the building came by on their way to go do laundry. They were curious, but did not seem to want to get involved. The most they would do is to try knocking on the door once and offer his phone number in case I felt I needed help later. Oh, and they also gave the local PD dispatch number. Off they went to do laundry.
After hearing more demands start up in the apartment once more, I again pounded on the door and announced that unless I heard otherwise, I was calling 911. After getting no answer, I called the dispatch. I have no idea what will happen with my Alabama cell if I call 911 in Ohio. Twenty-odd minutes later, a patrol car arrived. (When seconds count, the police are almost half an hour away!) I relayed my observations and actions to the lone responding officer and went back to my apartment. I listened through my partly opened door as the officer seemed to be walking around the hallway below. He was probably listening for activity from the apartment. Hearing nothing (the screaming had long since stopped), he knocked on the door. As happened to me, his knocking met with no response. He knocked again and announced, "Police." Nothing. He knocked a few more times, still announcing, and finally a woman opened the door. I could hear his half of the conversation, but not hers. He asked if she was OK. Based on what he was saying, I concluded that her responses led him to believe that there was nothing he could do, and he left.
I shut and latched my door and prepared to return to bed. I could hear voices coming from and movement about the apartment below. One of the voices seemed to be a man. I could not make out what was being said. However, since I could tell that people were talking, that talking had to be fairly loud. It just wasn't the loud screaming and yelling that allowed me to understand the words. It was still loud and concerned me. I did a quick check of my Glock and moved it from its usual nighttime resting place inside my closet in its holster to on the dresser, unholstered.
Nothing further happened, and after about an hour and a half, probably somewhere around 2 am, I finally drifted off. No indications of any repercussions this morning. What happened last night sure sounded like an assault, quite probably sexual. I hope that my intervention, minimal as it was, somehow mitigated the attack. I don't know, and I wonder if there will be repercussions. The woman, if she was indeed attacked, did not welcome any assistance. So, even if my actions helped her, she ain't ever gonna want to have anything to do with the interloper upstairs. The perp, if he was a perp, sure ain't gonna be happy with the guy that almost got him arrested.
I keep running over in my mind whether I chose the right course of action. I think I did. No direct intervention, since I had incomplete information, but called on someone who could intervene in exigent circumstances. Those circumstances clearly did not develop while the officer was there, but that could be because the situation was quelled--which may have been the only possible positive outcome.
Oh, well. I just needed to get this off my chest, and I currently don't have a Wendy right here. *sniff* Also, it is good to get my recollections down in writing should I need to be refreshed on them.
I know some of you would have done nothing, some would have gone in with guns-a-blazing, and some would have taken some alternate in between action. So constructive comments are welcome. I can't stop destructive comments, but I hope they are kept to a minimum. Fire...er...post away!
On edit: I think the belongs in the Social Lounge. I don't know why I put it in General. I did not OC at all during the goings on. Holsters do not attach to sweat pants well, and brandishing would have been a foolish course of action.
However, when the demand was repeated over and over, got even louder, and took on a screaming rather than just yelling quality, I took note. The constant "Get off me!" was now being interspersed with "No!" "Stop it!" and "Don't do that!" so I decided to try to find the source of the screaming, and see if I could help. I went downstairs and stood at the door. I could hear the TV in the front room, but could not make out what was on it. From what seemed further back in the apartment, I could make out the same four demands I had heard from my bedroom. I knocked on the door. The demands ceased, but the TV kept going. After waiting about half a minute, I heard muffled voices but could not make out what was being said. I knocked again and asked if anyone needed help. Still no reply but again the voices stopped.
Later, the demands of "Get off me!" started again. I pounded on the door and asked if I needed to call 911. Not knowing what was going on made me hesitant to take that step. By this time, another couple from the building came by on their way to go do laundry. They were curious, but did not seem to want to get involved. The most they would do is to try knocking on the door once and offer his phone number in case I felt I needed help later. Oh, and they also gave the local PD dispatch number. Off they went to do laundry.
After hearing more demands start up in the apartment once more, I again pounded on the door and announced that unless I heard otherwise, I was calling 911. After getting no answer, I called the dispatch. I have no idea what will happen with my Alabama cell if I call 911 in Ohio. Twenty-odd minutes later, a patrol car arrived. (When seconds count, the police are almost half an hour away!) I relayed my observations and actions to the lone responding officer and went back to my apartment. I listened through my partly opened door as the officer seemed to be walking around the hallway below. He was probably listening for activity from the apartment. Hearing nothing (the screaming had long since stopped), he knocked on the door. As happened to me, his knocking met with no response. He knocked again and announced, "Police." Nothing. He knocked a few more times, still announcing, and finally a woman opened the door. I could hear his half of the conversation, but not hers. He asked if she was OK. Based on what he was saying, I concluded that her responses led him to believe that there was nothing he could do, and he left.
I shut and latched my door and prepared to return to bed. I could hear voices coming from and movement about the apartment below. One of the voices seemed to be a man. I could not make out what was being said. However, since I could tell that people were talking, that talking had to be fairly loud. It just wasn't the loud screaming and yelling that allowed me to understand the words. It was still loud and concerned me. I did a quick check of my Glock and moved it from its usual nighttime resting place inside my closet in its holster to on the dresser, unholstered.
Nothing further happened, and after about an hour and a half, probably somewhere around 2 am, I finally drifted off. No indications of any repercussions this morning. What happened last night sure sounded like an assault, quite probably sexual. I hope that my intervention, minimal as it was, somehow mitigated the attack. I don't know, and I wonder if there will be repercussions. The woman, if she was indeed attacked, did not welcome any assistance. So, even if my actions helped her, she ain't ever gonna want to have anything to do with the interloper upstairs. The perp, if he was a perp, sure ain't gonna be happy with the guy that almost got him arrested.
I keep running over in my mind whether I chose the right course of action. I think I did. No direct intervention, since I had incomplete information, but called on someone who could intervene in exigent circumstances. Those circumstances clearly did not develop while the officer was there, but that could be because the situation was quelled--which may have been the only possible positive outcome.
Oh, well. I just needed to get this off my chest, and I currently don't have a Wendy right here. *sniff* Also, it is good to get my recollections down in writing should I need to be refreshed on them.
I know some of you would have done nothing, some would have gone in with guns-a-blazing, and some would have taken some alternate in between action. So constructive comments are welcome. I can't stop destructive comments, but I hope they are kept to a minimum. Fire...er...post away!
On edit: I think the belongs in the Social Lounge. I don't know why I put it in General. I did not OC at all during the goings on. Holsters do not attach to sweat pants well, and brandishing would have been a foolish course of action.
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