I Was 13 and Got Into a Stranger’s Car. He Laughed and Hit the Gas: Joy Farrow
I grew up in a quiet, suburban, well-to-do, area of upstate New York. People were friendly. You knew your neighbors, even if it was just a wave.
I was thirteen in the summer of ’74. I often cycled into town to hit the candy store, but I’d broken my bike in an accident, so I walked this time instead.
On my way home, a driver slowed down, put his passenger window down and asked if I needed a ride.
I said, “no thanks,” and kept walking. He persisted by telling me how hot it was out and that I looked overheated.
Well, it was hot, and he was cute with a nice smile and dark hair, probably college age, so it was easy for me to change my mind and get in.
He laughed as he hit the gas and said: “I can’t believe you got in the car with a stranger!”
“Whoa! That’s weird,” I thought to myself. I instinctively pointed straight ahead, stating: “I’m not far.”
He remained silent. I knew that I’d made a mistake.
I turned to the driver: “Stop. That’s my dad.” I leaned out the window, waving at a man mowing his lawn.
The car stopped. I flew out, running to the neighbor, who was glad to see he didn’t have a long-lost daughter. I was so happy to be safe after that weird feeling I had from that guy.
During that same summer, two other women had also had encounters with a seemingly nice guy.
Phyllis Armstrong was walking down the steps of her campus sorority house at the University of Washington when she was approached by a guy on crutches carrying a gas can. He claimed he had car trouble and needed help carrying the gas can and starting the car.
She thought it was odd but decided to help. When they got to his car, which was a good distance away for someone on crutches, he asked her to sit in the driver’s seat of the VW and push a button under the steering wheel.
He was behind, directing her, when Phyllis suddenly had a feeling that something wasn’t right and took off.
Janice Ann Ott was at the beach of Lake Sammamish State Park in Washington. She had just gotten comfortable on her blanket, amid thousands of beachgoers, when she was approached by a good-looking man with an arm in a sling and a request.
He asked if she would help him unload his catamaran boat, which was at his parents’ house nearby. He explained that he had injured his arm playing racquetball and required assistance.
Janice was visibly irritated as she had just found her spot and settled in. He persisted and continued pleading for her to come with him as he couldn’t do this alone. She grabbed her stuff and left with him.
A few hours later, that same day, Denise Naslund, also hanging out at the same beach with her friends, left to use the nearby restroom and never returned. She was lured away by a man needing help with a sailboat at his car.
I don’t have any idea who stopped to pick me up, but the other women encountered an infamous serial killer: Ted Bundy. Only one of those three survived.
Bundy was a predator who defied the stereotype. He preyed on women during busy daylight areas and gained access to unlocked dorm campuses and high schools. He was so confident he could talk his way out of an encounter that he didn’t disguise himself and used his first name. He used ruses for many of his daylight crimes hoping to cross paths with an unsuspecting, sympathetic woman that would look at him as an injured animal and want to help him.
He was so effective at persuasion that he left few survivors. Phyllis Armstrong discovered how lucky she was when she learned her roommate became a victim of Bundy’s.
Later, she couldn’t explain the feeling that suddenly came over her, but she listened to it and ran—saving her life.
What was that “feeling” that gave Phyllis Armstrong chills and told her to flee?
It’s not mystical or only possessed by certain people. It’s your subconscious; call it “Safety Intuition”. It’s like your own supercomputer processing data from your five senses, 24/7.
At any given moment, our five senses are taking in 11 million bits of data per second and feeding it to our subconscious. On the other hand, our conscious mind can only process 50 bits of data per second. It’s hard to believe.
If 50 pennies were stacked, they wouldn’t even reach 8cm from the floor. Imagine 11 million pennies, end to end: It would be 10 miles high.
What this means is that our Safety Intuition can see, hear, and process data far faster than our conscious mind can. And because it’s so fast we often don’t recognize the signals we’re getting and ignore them.
Maybe you’ve felt some of these signals yourself:
1. A gut feeling something is wrong, you just can’t put your finger on it.
2. A tingling feeling on the back of your neck, making your hair stand up.
3. An uncomfortable feeling in a situation or with a person, but you’re not sure what to do.
It is your subconscious process alerting you to possible danger. You need to assess the situation and make a judgment call.
Throughout my law enforcement career, I consistently relied on my Safety Intuition that saved me time after time—when I somehow “knew” that someone was lying, dangerous, or about to attack me.
One night, while handling a two-car crash with injuries, I asked one of the drivers for his license. He claimed that he didn’t have it. I then requested his name and date of birth to verify his identity through a nationwide database.
While waiting for the results, I chatted with him, observing his body language, facial expressions, and overall demeanor.
An uneasy feeling slowly came over me. Something wasn’t right.
So, I broke off the conversation and asked him to sit in the backseat of my patrol car until his information came back. Shortly thereafter, dispatch informed me to step away from him. I knew that meant the information to follow wasn’t supposed to be overheard by the subject.
Dispatch then related that not only did he have a murder warrant but had just fled a domestic battery scene. I was chilled to consider: What if…?
On another occasion, I was called to an apartment by a woman who reported that her ex-boyfriend showed up at her place, was sleeping on her couch, and had a warrant. I gently tapped his foot to wake him up.
He slowly sat up, wiping “sleep out of his eyes”. A thought suddenly raced through my mind: He’s working on an escape plan—I’d better be ready!
Then without warning, the six-foot-tall, more than 250lbs giant flung himself toward me, shattering a glass table. I dodged him, and he fled out the door. I gave chase and the fight ensued.
But because of my safety intuition, I avoided his initial impact and probable serious injury. Although he feigned grogginess, I sensed that it was an act and was able to avoid the attack and arrest the subject.
Many times, when I was interviewing women victims of various crimes, they would say, “I had a feeling” or “Why didn’t I listen to myself?” They sadly blamed themselves, for overriding a “feeling they felt” to be kind instead in the situation.
They didn’t do anything wrong. They are good people who didn’t think someone would turn on them.
Because many women have a sense of nurturing, empathy, and compassion, they can fall victim to predators. Predators rely on this known reaction from women, so they add more sob and sweet talk, until the convincing is done.
I once stopped a car for running a light. While speaking with the driver, I somehow got an odd feeling from the passenger: He was seemingly uninterested in what was happening and refused to even look in my direction.
Inexplicably, I became concerned about my safety. So, I focused on the passenger and noticed his hesitation to even basic identity questions. I sensed he was lying. And he was—he was wanted for a felony warrant and I made the arrest.
On another occasion, I was called to serve a warrant on a male adult subject. The warrant provided a name, but no picture, only a description of his tattoos. A female answered the door, and I asked if Bruce was home.
She yelled: “Bruce, hurry and come down here!” He flew down the stairs, saw me, and stopped in his tracks.
I said: “Hi, Bruce!”
He said: “I ain’t Bruce!”
He lied right in front of his girlfriend. I arrested him and quickly found the tattoos matching the description. From experience, I know that predators lie through their teeth, even when they know you know the truth.
I realized that the victims were well-meaning and socialized to be polite. They were conditioned to be accommodating to others, even strangers on the street, and they didn’t feel comfortable changing this norm.
Many women have said that when someone “appears” to need help they just volunteer to see how they can help, without realizing the possible threat to their own safety.
You are not the world’s Swiss Army Knife. It’s not your job to fix everyone’s alleged problems. You can decline. Don’t feel bad. Excuses aren’t necessary for strangers. You have a life and things to do. It’s not someone else’s business what you must do, or where you must go. They aren’t going to report you. You can always call the police if you feel like it warrants it.
Use your discretion. Each situation can be different. Just assess it and see why you were selected.
But this “politeness thing,” or “I don’t want to be rude,” is getting women assaulted and murdered.
Ted Bundy was executed long ago, but 50 years later, predators like him still roam the streets, date, marry, work, and blend in among us. Unfortunately, it’s become women’s work to weed these people out of our daily lives, as if we don’t already have enough to do.
Many predators, not just serial killers, use persuasion tactics to wear you down to get what they want.
These can be dates that can’t take no for answer; work colleagues pressuring you to have some more drinks as you’re leaving; that guy in the mall getting in your way to sell you something. They all have an agenda, benefitting themselves. They heard but continued to ratchet up the pressure.
You can work on being “Persuasion Proof”. It doesn’t happen overnight, but you can do it. Begin with baby steps. Start out by setting boundaries, and stick to it, no matter how persuasive someone tries to be.
For instance, say no, to the clerk that tries to upsell you at the checkout. No elaborate excuse or story. No, thank you, if you must. That’s a small start, but it’s huge for a lot of women who feel uncomfortable turning someone down.
When your friends want you to stay longer and have another drink, tell them no—and stick to it. Show them you can’t be persuaded.
Say no to any person or situation that makes you feel uncomfortable. Ask yourself why they refuse to take no for an answer when you’ve already made your wishes known. Listen to your Safety Intuition and leave the situation.
Your Safety Intuition is your natural defense system. Don’t override it because you don’t want to say no.
Joy Farrow is a retired Deputy Sheriff with twenty-eight years of experience and the co-author of Street Smart Safety for Women: Your Guide to Defensive Living (Health Communications Inc, an imprint of Simon & Schuster). She was one of the featured speakers at the TEDx Eustis conference and speaks on women’s safety.
All views expressed are the author’s own.