Book A

(Place on page 108 after para. 5 after word sex)


In 1987 I turned 31, I'll never forget my 31st birthday. Why on such an odd number?

After going  through the torture of the Spanish course, Mom asked me how I wanted to celebrate my birthday. The usual spaghetti dinner at home, featuring her homemade sauce? Or a special dinner out with Uncle Henry and Aunt Sue?

The choice was easy. It was quite a while since I had been to my home away from home, the Atlantic City casinos. Some much needed fun down AC would help  to ease my stress.

I must have won a few bucks that night because I wanted to treat Mom, Henry and Sue to a soft pretzel for on the way home. We stopped at a little pretzel cart right outside the door of the Sands Casino. It was close to midnight.

No one noticed the guy who followed us out the door. I was digging into my wallet for four dollar bills when this guy suddenly reaches over my shoulders and tries to grab my pouch. I still use a pouch to keep all my stuff together - hair brush, gum, stamps, tissues,  Philies pocket schedule, pens, and oh yes, my wallet.

It happened so fast. I yelled "Hey!" as this guy tugged on my black pouch. I was  hanging on for dear life as I  heard Mom yell "What are you doing?" Henry and Sue looked stunned and didn't  say a word.

It was  a tug of war between me and the mugger until I felt  the wheelchair sliding toward the curb- with me sliding out of the chair! I let go of the pouch, grabbing the wheels and the mugger  gave the pouch one final tug before running into the misty. damp night. A crowd of people saw what was happening and started chasing this guy down the fog-shrouded street.

We were all okay, no one was hurt. Just that fast we heard a police siren and a cop car whizzed by us, racing along the front of the Sands, lights flashing. In shock, I finally realized how close I had come to being pulled over the curb and into the street- within inches.

We waited as I lamented "He took my pouch!" No kidding, Sherlock! After a few moments we heard a distant cry of "They got him!"  I never saw his face.

The cops came back to tell us they had captured  the fleeing mugger . We needed to follow them to the police station to press charges.  Apparently he tried to throw the pouch away as the police and a handful of citizens finally cornered him. Everythimg was saved, especially the wallet.

None of us really wanted to take a trip to the Atlantic City police station. But we had gotten over the initial shock and were  now running on anger and adrenaline.

At the station we gave statements and were asked to fill out a few forms and sign to press charges. As I was ready to sign on the dotted line I looked up and got my first look at my mugger. They were holding him in an adjacent room. I could see him through the glass window. He was standing, handcuffed, head lowered  and then  we made eye contact for the first time.

He appeared haggard, with shaggy brown hair and a scruffy, stubbly face. When our eyes met he began shaking his head "no." I wasn't sure what that meant, either no, don't press charges or no, I'm sorry for what I did.

I felt kind of sorry for this young kid. The cops in the room with him were obviously asking him questions. One rolled up a paper ball and lightly tossed it at the guy, the paper hitting his chest and bouncing harmlessly away. When the cops found out it was my birthday no less, they were even most disgusted with this  fellow.

This scene seemed to last forever, the mugger shaking his head and me responding with an affirmative yes. They really didn't even have to ask me if this was the mugger. Again I had not seen his face, but they caught him fleeing into the night with my pouch and had him dead to rights.

Still I felt bad for him, even though he ruined my birthday and caused stress for my family . So I eventually signed the papers.

We were afraid we might have to return to AC for a hearing, but they didn't need me any longer.The cops thought it was pretty low, trying to rob someone in a wheelchair. Turns out he was known and had a long record for possession and selling drugs.

It turns out the guy pleaded guilty, which saved us trip, and was sentenced to jail for at least three years. I prayed he would find God and change his ways.

I got my belongings back and we didn't get home until the wee hours of the early morning.It could've been worse. What if he had a gun?  My birthday was over but I would always have the memory of being mugged.