From an old blog post of October 18, 2013.
The Story I Almost Forgot to Tell
By C. Randall Nicholson
Every once in a while a discussion comes up in which everyone not only disagrees with me but can't even grasp what I'm saying in the first place. During these times I have to wonder whether I'm smarter than all of them, stupider than all of them, insane, or what. I wonder how many times I'll need to explain myself before they answer the question I asked instead of one I didn't ask and already know the answer to. This time I decided not to worry about it and just move on. If I conclude that I'm smarter I'll have too much self-esteem, if I conclude that I'm stupider I'll have too little, and I already know I'm insane but it would take some doing to determine if that's actually the problem here and whether, if so, it's actually a bad thing. "Insane" is such a relative and subjective term, after all, and we all know the label is sometimes misused.
That has nothing to do with the rest of this post, but I wanted to get it off my chest. Now, to get to the point:
A couple weeks ago I was out with some people from the ward and one of the bishopric members asked me, "So, rescued any young ladies lately?" I was like "What? Oh - wait, you read my blog too?" Then I realized I'd never actually written about it on my blog and should probably get around to rectifying that because it's one of the most interesting things that ever happened to me. The following story, for the sake of saving time, has been edited from the message I sent to one of the girls living upstairs from them the day after:
[Beginning of quote] All right, so I met this amazing girl in the park a couple nights ago and last night I was there hoping to see her again. I waited around for a half hour or so and then I was about to go home and sleep but I felt for some reason that I should walk down the street towards the transit center instead. Ironically, as I saw your house I thought about your roommate's creepers and wondered whatever happened to them and if they were still around. Then as I was almost directly across from it I heard womens' screams coming from that direction.
My first thought was that it was a prank (nothing bad ever happens in Logan, right?), but they kept going. They would pause to breathe every few seconds and then go again, and I started to worry. I thought maybe there was a frog in the house or something, and it just kept jumping around and freaking them out. Then three guys came running out through the basement gate and across the yard, laughing, to a van that was parked a couple houses up, and drove away. I wanted to intercept them and make them intercept the sidewalk, or get the license plate number, but they were too far away. I wished I had a bazooka.
The screaming had stopped by this time but I thought maybe I should check and make sure they were all right. I didn't even know who they were because I'd lost track of who was living down there now, and I wasn't sure if it would be weird of me since everything was apparently okay, but I went anyway. The lights were off but I could hear some girls talking in low, trembling, still-terrified voices. I was about to say something when they saw me standing there and started screaming again.
After I was able to explain myself and calm them down I told them what I'd seen. Then one of them kept repeating "Our neighbor says yadda yadda yadda". Then I realized she was on the phone with the police. She got off and said, "Mister, will you come in here please?"
I couldn't say no to that, and as soon as I did she checked inside the closet for some reason. They explained that they'd been asleep when someone had pounded on their front door and bedroom window and stood there for a long time and petrified them. And the two were still pretty quiet but the one kept saying stuff like "I am so glad you showed up, thank you" and she kept laughing that adrenaline-aftermath kind of laugh. And I wished there was more I could do but I decided to stay until the police arrived, both to keep comforting them and to talk to the police, even though I hadn't seen enough details to actually be very helpful. The officer showed up and collected everyone's ID information. As one of the girls recited her birth date I realized she was just about the same age as my sister, and I felt even more protective and loving, and it was a great feeling, though bittersweet of course because I didn't want them to need protection in the first place.
The officer took me outside and questioned me first. I didn't have my wallet with me so I didn't have ID and I was worried that there would be problems, but he just checked with HQ to verify that I had a Utah state ID and that was fine. I told him what little I knew. Then he told me I was a Good Samaritan and went back inside to talk to the girls, and I went home, not wanting to annoy him by sticking around too long. We all figured it was probably just some idiot guys they knew goofing off.
...Here's the weird thing - I have no doubt that the Spirit led me there, but I wouldn't have even been in the park at that hour if I hadn't met that girl a couple nights ago. So I had to wonder, did God arrange for me to meet that girl just for this purpose, or would he have found some other way to get me there? [End of quote.]
See, I had to tell her the story because I asked her if she'd heard the bloodcurdling screams in her basement, and she thought that was a weird thing to say. And apparently she then told several other people, which was really awesome and kind of her. What a friend.
I was very glad to have helped in this situation, but on a broader level I was disturbed. I'd always assumed up until this point that this was a really safe town because there are always people nearby to hear you scream. But as it turns out, either they can't hear you or they don't care. Granted, this was just one city block and I shouldn't judge all of Logan by it, but it seems to be human nature. When I briefly ranted about it in one of my usual Facebook groups I got these responses (among others):
"I hate that!! The other day, as I was walking back to my room after class, I heard a man yelling 'Open the dooooor!' over and over again. Only another girl and I went to check if the construction worker was trapped."
"It's studied in psychology.. Shared responsibility among many people, people will believe someone else will react first." (This comment got eight likes, including mine. Human idiocy is always more forgivable when there's a psychological basis.)
And this one - the worst - "Uuugh that's sick. A while ago I had a similar experience; a girl was screaming the most agonizing screams I have ever heard while running away from a man and eventually she fell over and started crawling away instead of running and when the guy caught up to her she started writhing around on the ground.... ; I ran up and asked the girl if she was okay, she didn't answer, but eventually stopped screaming and she and the guy walked away together... I was afraid it was attempted date rape or something so I called the police and the operator said they'd send someone, but no one ever showed; I told campus security what happened and tried to give them my info in case the police showed up and asked what happened, security refused to take my info or investigate and kept trying to get me to go away... two other girls at least stopped and tried to see what was happening when they heard her scream, but went away once the girl willingly left with the guy.... it really disgusted me how little people care for each other."
In conclusion, people should care for each other. And not just with the big things, but the little things too. Carrying groceries and stuff. I could go on but I don't want to spend too long writing or come across as any more self-righteous than I probably (I told you I know how to spell it) already have. Just keep it in mind, okay? I shall now get off my soap box. Good night.
That has nothing to do with the rest of this post, but I wanted to get it off my chest. Now, to get to the point:
A couple weeks ago I was out with some people from the ward and one of the bishopric members asked me, "So, rescued any young ladies lately?" I was like "What? Oh - wait, you read my blog too?" Then I realized I'd never actually written about it on my blog and should probably get around to rectifying that because it's one of the most interesting things that ever happened to me. The following story, for the sake of saving time, has been edited from the message I sent to one of the girls living upstairs from them the day after:
[Beginning of quote] All right, so I met this amazing girl in the park a couple nights ago and last night I was there hoping to see her again. I waited around for a half hour or so and then I was about to go home and sleep but I felt for some reason that I should walk down the street towards the transit center instead. Ironically, as I saw your house I thought about your roommate's creepers and wondered whatever happened to them and if they were still around. Then as I was almost directly across from it I heard womens' screams coming from that direction.
My first thought was that it was a prank (nothing bad ever happens in Logan, right?), but they kept going. They would pause to breathe every few seconds and then go again, and I started to worry. I thought maybe there was a frog in the house or something, and it just kept jumping around and freaking them out. Then three guys came running out through the basement gate and across the yard, laughing, to a van that was parked a couple houses up, and drove away. I wanted to intercept them and make them intercept the sidewalk, or get the license plate number, but they were too far away. I wished I had a bazooka.
The screaming had stopped by this time but I thought maybe I should check and make sure they were all right. I didn't even know who they were because I'd lost track of who was living down there now, and I wasn't sure if it would be weird of me since everything was apparently okay, but I went anyway. The lights were off but I could hear some girls talking in low, trembling, still-terrified voices. I was about to say something when they saw me standing there and started screaming again.
After I was able to explain myself and calm them down I told them what I'd seen. Then one of them kept repeating "Our neighbor says yadda yadda yadda". Then I realized she was on the phone with the police. She got off and said, "Mister, will you come in here please?"
I couldn't say no to that, and as soon as I did she checked inside the closet for some reason. They explained that they'd been asleep when someone had pounded on their front door and bedroom window and stood there for a long time and petrified them. And the two were still pretty quiet but the one kept saying stuff like "I am so glad you showed up, thank you" and she kept laughing that adrenaline-aftermath kind of laugh. And I wished there was more I could do but I decided to stay until the police arrived, both to keep comforting them and to talk to the police, even though I hadn't seen enough details to actually be very helpful. The officer showed up and collected everyone's ID information. As one of the girls recited her birth date I realized she was just about the same age as my sister, and I felt even more protective and loving, and it was a great feeling, though bittersweet of course because I didn't want them to need protection in the first place.
The officer took me outside and questioned me first. I didn't have my wallet with me so I didn't have ID and I was worried that there would be problems, but he just checked with HQ to verify that I had a Utah state ID and that was fine. I told him what little I knew. Then he told me I was a Good Samaritan and went back inside to talk to the girls, and I went home, not wanting to annoy him by sticking around too long. We all figured it was probably just some idiot guys they knew goofing off.
...Here's the weird thing - I have no doubt that the Spirit led me there, but I wouldn't have even been in the park at that hour if I hadn't met that girl a couple nights ago. So I had to wonder, did God arrange for me to meet that girl just for this purpose, or would he have found some other way to get me there? [End of quote.]
See, I had to tell her the story because I asked her if she'd heard the bloodcurdling screams in her basement, and she thought that was a weird thing to say. And apparently she then told several other people, which was really awesome and kind of her. What a friend.
I was very glad to have helped in this situation, but on a broader level I was disturbed. I'd always assumed up until this point that this was a really safe town because there are always people nearby to hear you scream. But as it turns out, either they can't hear you or they don't care. Granted, this was just one city block and I shouldn't judge all of Logan by it, but it seems to be human nature. When I briefly ranted about it in one of my usual Facebook groups I got these responses (among others):
"I hate that!! The other day, as I was walking back to my room after class, I heard a man yelling 'Open the dooooor!' over and over again. Only another girl and I went to check if the construction worker was trapped."
"It's studied in psychology.. Shared responsibility among many people, people will believe someone else will react first." (This comment got eight likes, including mine. Human idiocy is always more forgivable when there's a psychological basis.)
And this one - the worst - "Uuugh that's sick. A while ago I had a similar experience; a girl was screaming the most agonizing screams I have ever heard while running away from a man and eventually she fell over and started crawling away instead of running and when the guy caught up to her she started writhing around on the ground.... ; I ran up and asked the girl if she was okay, she didn't answer, but eventually stopped screaming and she and the guy walked away together... I was afraid it was attempted date rape or something so I called the police and the operator said they'd send someone, but no one ever showed; I told campus security what happened and tried to give them my info in case the police showed up and asked what happened, security refused to take my info or investigate and kept trying to get me to go away... two other girls at least stopped and tried to see what was happening when they heard her scream, but went away once the girl willingly left with the guy.... it really disgusted me how little people care for each other."
In conclusion, people should care for each other. And not just with the big things, but the little things too. Carrying groceries and stuff. I could go on but I don't want to spend too long writing or come across as any more self-righteous than I probably (I told you I know how to spell it) already have. Just keep it in mind, okay? I shall now get off my soap box. Good night.
