I lead a dull boring life.
I know, TV makes NYC seem like an exciting place.
There is always something going on somewhere, but still, I like most NY'ers, lead a boring life.
Once in a while, though, things do happen.
Today was the WWKIP, and I was late getting started.
I packed some snacks, and some water (several bottles of water, 2 of them mostly ice really rather than water.. (i love cold water.) And then headed to the subway, off to a WWKIP event in Central Park.
As I headed down the step to the subway concourse, I heard a commotion.. screaming.. loud screaming.. (there were people exiting the subway stairs as I headed down.)
Further down, onto the the concourse, the screaming got louder.. and there was some dozen or so people milling about--several on cell phones.
The screaming and action was a young man assaulting a young woman. By the time I got to the center of the concourse, it was clear she was trying to get away and that she was bleeding. As I came close, I saw him bang her head into one of the metal (steel) support post near the turnstiles.. He had just pulled her back for an attempt to crawl under the turnstile to escape him. And all the while, she was screaming,--from pain, from fear--in reaction.
And everyone, more than a dozen men and women, were standing there watching.
I walked up to the man and told him to stop. He ignored me. I told him again, and laid my hand on his shoulder to make sure he could hear me.
The young woman was fighting him, he was kicking her, pulling her hair and had one had down her blouse and was grabbing her breast.
He growled at me “she's my woman” .
No, I countered, she is not.. and since quiet reasoning didn't seem to be doing much, I grabbed his left arm, and squeezed.. my finger nails are not polished and manicured, but they are not short either.
And knitting, (god bless knitting!) has made my fingers and arms strong.. (surprisingly strong!)
Rather quickly, the young man was feeling some pain and he releaced his grip on her breasts, pulled his arm back to try and shake my grip. Half freed from his grip, the young woman was able to pull her self free. She ran across the concourse and positioned herself behind some spectators.
She was gasping, and wimpering--still frightened, still in pain.
I released my grip, and while the young man growled still, he didn't seem threatening to me.. (That is, I wasn't feeling threatened) I thought he might still might want to pursue the young woman, but I didn't think he would assault me.
Still, we where rather close..Out of nowhere (or rather from behind me!) one of the here-to-for spectators (who, perhaps, was in a better position to judge the danger I might have been in) conked the assaulter on the head (with a metal fire extinguisher)
The Assaulter wasn't knocked out cold—but he was certainly stunned. He fell back, and had a dazzled look in his eye.
I made a mistake then. I turned my back on him, and went to see to the young woman.
Apparently, he recovered rather quickly from the bump on the head, he lunged for me. Fortunately, by then, more of the bystanders had been galvanized into action. 3 of them grabbed him, restrained him, brought him to his knees, and as I turned back (to see what was up), they wrestled him to the ground.
One knelt on his back, and the other two held his arms. He continued to put up a fight for some while.
Continuing my rescue mission, I grabbed one of my bottle of mostly ice, a little water..
I gave it to the young woman, and told her to wash the blood out of her mouth. (her lower lip was cut, and her gum was swollen and bleeding.) and suggested she use it as an icepack as well, on her lip.
Finally (and to be honest, all of about 3 minutes had passed) the police arrived. 2 regular cops, 2 transit cops.
Two cops handcuffed the assailant, 1 went to talk to the MTA token clerk, who was one of the first to call 911, and one went to the victim.
Several people spoke to me, and told me.. You were very brave.. I saw the guy who conked the assailant with the fire extinguisher, and thanked him, and the other who restrained the assailant.
Before I left, I gave one of the officers my card, and did the same to the woman who was assaulted.
(I doubt this case will go to trial, or that I will be called to testify, but you never know..) I never learned the young womans name, only that she didn't know her assaulter.
For once, it was not a boring day.
Knitting in public was anticlimactically.. (but good for restoring my own peace of mind)