Ever been a victim???

This is a discussion on Ever been a victim??? within the Off Topic & Humor Discussion forums, part of the The Back Porch category; I have been the victim of a burglary while living in NY City (The Bronx). It was back in 1978, when my (ex) wife was ...

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Thread: Ever been a victim???

  1. #16
    VIP Member Array JonInNY's Avatar
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    I have been the victim of a burglary while living in NY City (The Bronx). It was back in 1978, when my (ex) wife was 9 months pregnant with our son. The apartment was in a shambles, and the incident actually induced me to quit my job and leave NYC.
    "Democracy is two wolves and a lamb voting on what to have for lunch; Liberty is a well-armed lamb contesting the vote."
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  3. #17
    Member Array JudoJake's Avatar
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    Nope. Not a violent crime. As a Police Officer, I'm not really allowed to be a victim in that since. I certainly have been assaulted though. Many times. However I've never had the feeling of being victimized. It's part of the job of course. No hard feelings. I've certainly given more than I have received.

  4. #18
    Senior Member Array Natureboypkr's Avatar
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    I'll send you details if you PM me
    Mixed Martial Arts Record= 2-0.......Kyokushin Karate Record=5-0

    USMC.....helping enemies of America die for their countries since 1775

  5. #19
    Member Array titleist's Avatar
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    When I was 20 I got jumped by 8-10 young men. It started with a sucker punch to the left of my head. After getting hit a few times and tripping to the ground, getting kicked in the head a bit, I told calmly said "alright fellas, that's enough." They didn't feel the same way and kept kicking me in the head saying "Lights out! Lights out!" hoping I'd get knocked out (didn't happen). I managed to grab one of their legs and take him down with me, and spent the rest of the beating on my feet. It pretty much sucked, as it was raining, muddy, and I was wearing flip flops slipping all over the place. I kept trying to identify anyone who would take a swing, but they were ALL sucker punches from the side. When I finally saw someone hit me straight on, I took two steps forward about to punch him, but someone grabbed the back of my sweater sleeve and my arm decelerated to nothing. I'd like to say I got a few hits in, but nope, it ain't easy with so many BG's. I got pretty swollen up, fractured nose, but nothing serious besides looking like I'd been run over for a few weeks. I'm glad I didn't have a knife on me that night, as I didn't know much about self defense, and in the end I turned out OK... But I learned a good lesson that night: People don't fight fair, and act like a pack of animals when together like that. If it happens again, and for whatever reason I'm unarmed I won't wait for them to get a few hits in hoping they are just trying to make a point--I'm going to rid myself of excess clothing immediately, and bite, jab, break fingers, punch throats, and use any weapon of opportunity until the threat stops. The guy who orchestrated the whole thing is serving time in the pen for doing the same thing (assault by mob?) and selling controlled substances.

  6. #20
    VIP Member Array ExSoldier's Avatar
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    My original thread went 5 pages and over 150 posts. I think since I started it I'd tell my story:

    I was the total epitome of a classic "nerd" growing up. I was raised real gentle. My dad was a Russian and although he'd played tennis in high school here in the states (class of 1924) he wasn't a big sports fan so I never got to be one either. In fact I'm still not. Only two football games interest me every year: Alabama/Auburn & Army/Navy.

    I excelled at reading as a kid and by the time I was in the 6th grade I'd read my sister's required reading for college. "Lord of the Rings." As you can imagine such a gentle nerdy kid was perfect "bully bait." And so it was. I got pummeled on a regular basis. I was a real skinny kid. Weak. I asked my dad what to do and being a big believer in a society ruled by law (having come from CZARIST Russia and having seen his family basically wiped out by communism) he said "tell the teachers or Principal" Well you can imagine how well that went for me.

    Then of course, they integrated the schools for the very first time. I was a little bit scared of that and asked my dad what to do. He says "Walk up to the first colored kid you see, offer him your hand and welcome him to the school." I did exactly that. Know what happened?

    The kid punched me in the mouth and said: Gimme your lunch money! I kid you not that was my very FIRST experience with a kid other than my own color and that was the result. That began a whole new round of terror. But this was worse. Calculated terror for the pleasure of those doing it.

    Got jumped in the 6th grade by three real thugs and they caved in a few ribs when I was down with their football cleats. THEN my mom sent to spend a summer at the family farm in Virginia. My cousins were just back from Viet Nam. They taught me and I learned. I hefted hay bales all summer and got a bit stronger. Started to read a series of spy novels about a character named MATT HELM. Actually not so much a spy as a government Hit Man. Awesome books not like the STOOOPID Goofy movies with Dean Martin! I think a good deal of my outlook on self defense was formed there. Something in me CLICKED. I don't know if it was the contact with my soldier cousins or the books but when I got back to school that fall the meanest of the thugs was after me the very first day. See, here is the drill: the littlest of the bunch does all the shoving and punching. If the victim fights back the brothers come over from the high school to exact revenge. This time, the little punk shoved me all the way across the athletic field. I made a twitch as if to hit him and he smiled like a wolf. He stuck out his chin and dared me. Somewhere deep down inside the SHEEPDOG growled for the very first time. I reared back and let fly a punch that had every ounce of my 115 pounds behind it. He was lifted off the ground about four inches and onto his back with the biggest most surprised eyes anybody had ever seen off the silver screen. I knelt beside him and calmly informed him that I expected to see his brothers but that if I did... however long it took me to heal I'd come back and find him. Whatever they did to me I'd do to him TWICE. So if they broke my arm, I'd break both of his. The worm had turned. That was the 7th grade.

    In the 10th grade I was the victim of a pro type strong arm robbery in a school bathroom. Funny thing, I saw it coming. Little shrimp comes in while I'm standing and finishing up and he doesn't do anything, just trots down the stalls and makes sure they're empty. I knew it was time to leave. But as I opened the door IT hit me. Big as BIGFOOT and just as smelly. Took my wallet (left my drivers license) and watch. Never to be seen again. Deep inside me I just knew I could have stopped it if I'd only picked up the trash can and NAILED the first THING thru the door. ~sigh~ I was learning, just not quick enough. Got involved with my new best friend then (he remains my buddy today -- we went to college and into the army together as officers. He retired as an 05, LTC of Special Forces), in a group called POLICE EXPLORERS. I knew I wanted to be a cop. I was changing faster now.

    In college we split for awhile. He went straight to BAMA and I had to go elsewhere before I transferred to Bama. In that time period I had just one more fight.

    You ever meet somebody for the very first time and you instantly KNOW you're not going to get along. You ... just .... don't ...LIKE the dude. And HE hates you just as strongly although you really don't know a thing about each other! Well that was this in spades, except he was white with a red frilly AFRO type cut. I took a Karate for my PE class. He was in the class and I knew he wanted to fight. I kept walking away.

    One night there was a power failure that knocked out the old power systems to our dorm. I was on the second floor of three. I was leaving my room in the late afternoon near the end of school when he attacked me from behind. We wrestled and went down in a tangle. I looked up and found I had a perfect shot with my fist at ummmm "the family jewels." I took it.

    He screamed and doubled up. I got up and checked around to see if anybody had heard. He's moaning on the floor. I just knew that if he got back up, he'd KILL me. He was three inches taller and had about 40 pounds on me. So I grabbed him by the hair and threw him down the stairs. He bounced down, slammed his head on the wall (leaving a small streak of blood) of the landing and tumbled halfway down where he lay semi conscious. I trotted down and listened again. Thank God for the thunder and lightning of the storm. I knelt, grabbed his right arm and twisted it around. With a sharp slap of the heel of my palm, I broke his arm at the elbow causing a compound fracture of the arm. That was a very LOUD snapping sound! The pain brought him to full consciousness and he really screamed! I immediately went to the RA for the floor (senior advisor) and frantically beat on his door while yelling at the top of my lungs: "Hurry there's been an accident! Somebody fell down the stairs in the dark and I think he's hurt bad!"

    The paramedics were called and he was transported to the hospital. He kept trying to tell them I'd done it on purpose but the medics slapped him and told him he was delirious, that I'd likely saved his LIFE! Thankfully he was still in traction when school ended and I'd already transferred to Bama.

    There I joined Army ROTC along with my buddy and all those good ol boys finished my education along with teaching me to shoot, hunt & fish. Then I graduated after having my ccw permit in Alabama for a couple of years and working as an armed guard full time. I got into my share of scrapes, but by then it was no big deal. I did have to actually draw my gun twice on REAL events, but those are two more longish stories and I'm too tired to go on, right now.
    Former Army Infantry Captain; 25 yrs as an NRA Certified Instructor; Avid practitioner of the martial art: KLIK-PAO.

  7. #21
    Member Array libertarian5's Avatar
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    Robbed in Mexico by two Californians. My fault - young, young, young.

    Drafted by the Army (a mugging of sorts) and sent to VietNam as a 91A10 / 91U20. Nothing really bad happened to me while stationed there until I got back to the USA.

    Burglarized by junkies after RVN while stationed in Detroit X 2
    Armed robbery in Detroit same time X 1. They used a .25 auto and got 75 cents.

    Terrorized by pot growers while working in Mississippi 6 years ago

    Vehicle burglarized and equipment taken at job site in Louisiana 1 year ago

    I began to CCW after the Mississippi deal. When I think back, VietNam was probably mas tranquilo than all the rest....
    A veteran, whether active duty, retired, national guard or reserve is someone who, at one point in his/her life, wrote a blank check made payable
    to "The United States of America" for an amount of "up to and including my life." Author unknown

  8. #22
    VIP Member Array tns0038's Avatar
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    Including the years I was working undercover for the SD or Fed's would fill a book.

  9. #23
    VIP Member Array ExSoldier's Avatar
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    Talking These things happen sometimes....

    Quote Originally Posted by titleist View Post
    When I was 20 I got jumped by 8-10 young men. It started with a sucker punch to the left of my head. After getting hit a few times and tripping to the ground, getting kicked in the head a bit, I told calmly said "alright fellas, that's enough." They didn't feel the same way and kept kicking me in the head saying "Lights out! Lights out!" hoping I'd get knocked out (didn't happen). I managed to grab one of their legs and take him down with me, and spent the rest of the beating on my feet. It pretty much sucked, as it was raining, muddy, and I was wearing flip flops slipping all over the place. I kept trying to identify anyone who would take a swing, but they were ALL sucker punches from the side. When I finally saw someone hit me straight on, I took two steps forward about to punch him, but someone grabbed the back of my sweater sleeve and my arm decelerated to nothing. I'd like to say I got a few hits in, but nope, it ain't easy with so many BG's.

    You know, that exact scenario happened to a buddy of mine while he was "passing thru" Thailand about 20 years ago. He was a Spec-Ops guy. Officer type. He got jumped by this huge mob of local thugs and he just slipped to the ground as he drew a little SpyderCo Delicia model lock blade. Said he started feeling around for legs, slid the blade down and started slicing the achilles tendon where ever he could. The knife was so sharp there were few gasps or even yells. He was able to crawl free of the stack and start jogging away. He turned to look for pursuit and saw they were all dragging themselves along with hands and arms. He said to me he thought that before dawn they'd fall victim to some of the other sharks prowling those streets. He didn't even get a scratch. That's going to be my tactic if I ever fall victim to the same sort of event.
    Former Army Infantry Captain; 25 yrs as an NRA Certified Instructor; Avid practitioner of the martial art: KLIK-PAO.

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