Flada Blog

originally published on Open Diary: 6/23/2001

When I Turned into A 6′8″, Black, Male Hunter (on my walk)

It was after 11:00 when I climbed into my tent. It was set back from the river about 200 feet. Right next to a picnic shelter.

It happened in Willoughby, Ohio. It was a cool October night just after a rain. Very black, back so far away from town.

I had just begun to doze off when some kids came to use the shelter. The table they picked to use was the one nearest my tent.

They talked and were having fun until one of them noticed a sign painted on my tent that said, “GO OUT INTO THE WORLD AND DO GOOD THINGS.” It comes from Proverbs, and there is more but that is all they read aloud. Trying to decide if it came from the Bible or not they lost their good humor and begun to get belligerent.

Then they started to throw bottles and things at the tent. Yelling obscenities.

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I was more scared than I ever had been before. There is no description of what it is like to be paralyzed with fear. I lay still hoping they would forget this tent.

Then one of the guys decided to be brave.

“I’m going to go pull that person out of the tent and beat them up.”

“How?” another asked.

“I’ll pull up the tent stakes since I can’t figure out how to get in.”

So the young punk did get brave and pulled up the tent stake just in front of my face. He looked in. I was in a dark sleeping bag. He could not see in.

Feeling so brave at having done this the young punk started bragging about how he had pulled up a stake a looked in. Admitting he could not see anything because it was to dark.

I was frightened stiff. They yelled for me to come out. An inner voice told me to stay put and to stay quiet.

In their bravery they all went back into the shelter to yell on this situation some more. But now they chose the second table back. They were yelling “Why don’t you get out of here and get a job?”

Talking to each other.

“Maybe it is just some fisherman who has come to vacation here and fish.”

“Maybe he is a hunter and has a gun.” At that they went back another table.

Still, while I was laughing and being scared that they could still kill me, they went on yelling and getting angrier.

“Maybe the hunter is a black man.”

They moved back another table.

“You know he probably plays basketball.”

“Must be about 6ft. 8in.”

They moved back another table. Getting angrier and more afraid.

Not a good combination I thought to be both angry and afraid. I was laughing and the fear was still overwhelming.

“Maybe that black man is going to come out and shoot us?”

At that they went the 200 yards across the ground going to their truck.

They sat on the truck still yelling and throwing things. I could see them now that they were under the light. Also because the one brave punk had pulled up the rain fly stake and left it up enough for me to see out.

After a few moments one of them spoke up. “He should wake up with as much noise as we are making.”

Another screamed out, “He’s dead or he would have come out and got us already.”

With that they all jumped in the truck and peeled out of the parking lot.