Escaping a Serial Killer
Tuskegee is the birth place of the mother of the Civil Rights movement, Rosa Parks, radio personality, Tom Joyner, and soul-crooner, Lionel Richie, formerly of the Commodores.
Tuskegee is renowned as the birthplace of Tuskegee University (formerly Tuskegee Institute) which is one of this country’s most prestigious historically black universities.
Tuskegee is also synonymous with the often underrated but heroic and legendary Tuskegee airmen.
Tuskegee is acclaimed for the wizardly contributions of George Washington Carver and the business acumen and political shrewdness emanating from Booker T. Washington.
Tuskegee is the home of my birth.
Tuskegee should have been the home of my death!
It was a joyous occasion. I was “peacock proud” and honored to have been invited to serve as keynote speaker on behalf of a respected organization in my hometown. Moments prior to my departure, I was summoned to the offices of a local politician who wanted me to meet one of his staff members.
Within seconds, she and I quickly determined that we had been classmates.
Within minutes, I learned that I had been fortunate to have escaped death from the hands of a serial killer. I would have perished at 12 years old!
Servile as a preteen due to the absence of my father, I had been searching for a replacement to fill the hollow crater created in my heart when my parents divorced. Abandoned by dad and despised by mom, my wounded heart and youthful naiveté found love from the “cheap seats.” Slowly, I became hypnotically possessed as I was under the influence of an older man’s mojo and prowess.
Roaming the streets at night like a panther to meet up with my “snake charmer” became my modus operandi. Secret and clandestine rendezvous often occurred as I expertly drove the family car to his home.
Decades later as I pored over the voluminous documents detailing how this multi-state serial killer horrifically tormented his female victims, I was left paralyzed in wonderment. Staring at his prison photo yielded no answers to my inquisitiveness—why was I spared?
Similar to the African who lifted Kunta Kente to the heavens in the epic movie, Roots, I raised my hands to God thanking him for sending me countless angels who shielded me with a cloak of protection while I was in the clutches of sin, danger, and despair.
When rejected or abandoned by their first love (aka dads), vulnerable girls will seek solace and the companionship from the arms of any man. Unwittingly, their tender hearts can’t discern the difference between a wolf and a vampire.
Upon the introduction of a “pair of pants” into her life, girls’ promiscuous behavior often leads them to becoming unwed mothers, drug abuse, alcoholism, domestic violence, criminal activities, peer pressure, and a cycle of poverty within their mind, body, soul, spirit, self-esteem, and raw emotions. Rarely does she possess the wherewithal, motivation, environment, support, and vision to climb out from the bottom of the barrel and ascend towards Proverbs 31.
Incredibly, geography spared my life from this psychopathological killer because months later my family had moved from Tuskegee to Baltimore. However, new terrain did not resolve the longings that I still had for my dad. And, of course, I routinely fell prey to more wolves and vampires.
Triumphantly, on this Father’s Day, I can confidently and victoriously say that I am aware of at least one 12 year-old girl who will not be under the spell of a mad man.
Instead, my beautiful and wholesome daughter will spend her time lovingly creating more treasured memories on this remarkable day with a real man—-her dad.
Praise, God, that I am alive to see this honor!