A Nightmare Plays Out In Real Time – Part 1 – “Darby’s”

May 7th, 1993, was a very disturbing night for me… on so many levels.

My then-husband, Harold, and I were separated.  Harold had a long history of verbally and physically abusive behavior.  He also had a long bout of being manic-depressive, an alcoholic, and a drug addict.  We had two small children together and were trying very hard to keep things as healthy for them as we could.  With all the problems he had, he really was a good dad (up to the very end).  He had been sticking with therapy this time and it seemed to be helping him.

He had been trying insistently to get me to go out with him for a drink for quite some time.  When he said that friends would be joining us and that there would be no expectations, convincing me that our night out would be strictly platonic, I finally caved in and agreed and had my uncle go along just so I’d feel safer.

We ended up at a local pub called “Darby’s”.  It was a small place with a bar, pool tables, dart boards, a stage, and a dance floor.  They had THE best wings EVER!  They also made a great Bacardi and 7.  My uncle was a local favorite among the patrons and staff and seemed to know just about everyone that frequented the bar.  Brandon, Florida, didn’t have much to offer at that time in the form of entertainment, but this was a great place to hang out.

When we first arrived, I walked over to the bar to sit with my uncle’s best friend, Lynn.  Harold and my uncle proceeded straight to the pool tables.  The friends that were supposed to meet us never showed up, of course, so I was very glad to have my uncle keeping Harold occupied.  He came over to me frequently to see who I was talking to, but wasn’t causing any trouble… yet.  He and my uncle seemed happy enough drinking and flirting with the girls they were playing pool with.

Lynn and I ended up sitting at a large table with several of her friends that she introduced me to.  She and I sat across from each other with 3 men to my left and 2 men and a woman to my right.  Everyone was laughing and having a great conversation.  A new man sat down at our table beside me that I was not introduced to.  Everyone seemed very nice and was having a good time as we enjoyed the music.

As I was coming out of the restroom, Bill walked up to me and put his hand on my shoulder as he was talking to me.  This was a completely innocent gesture on Bill’s part but, apparently, Harold saw it quite differently.  He ran over to us from the pool table area so fast that I wasn’t sure at first where he even came from.  He flew into a rage and was screaming at Bill causing a scene.  Two very large bouncers were quickly ushering Harold out the door and asking me if I was alright.  They told me he was still screaming obscenities and threats as they pushed him out the door and asked if I had a safe place to go until he calmed down.  Before I could answer, he had forced his way into the side entrance by the dance floor to my right and was lunging for me.  Three more bouncers tried to hold him back as the first two were on either side of me helping me to the front exit.

As I reached the door, Bill and his friend took me from the bouncers and told them they’d see to it that I was safe.  Everything was spinning completely out of control.  I was frantically searching for my uncle and Lynn.  They were nowhere.  Where did they go?  Why would they leave me like that?

Reaching Bill’s Corvette, a man was pulling on my arm and literally putting me into his Camaro.  I didn’t even know where I was in the parking lot at that point.  I was still looking around for Lynn or my uncle.  I was trying to find where the bouncers were.  They were still trying to hold down Harold at the door to keep him from getting to me.  I could still hear him yelling.  I look over at the driver’s seat and realize that it’s the same man who sat beside me at the table that I wasn’t introduced to.  I tried to comfort myself thinking that he must be a friend of Lynn’s… and, probably a friend of my uncle’s.  Before I could even ask what he was doing, he sped out of the parking lot.  I told him to turn left at the stop sign so that he could take me home.  He turned right.  I told him at the next light to turn left to take me home.  He turned right.  Before reaching the next light I told him to turn right.  All of a sudden we ZIP into the left turn lane and a truck smashes into the car that would have been in front of us had we stayed in that lane.  He was saying something about being a race car driver and that my husband had just wrecked trying to run us off the road.  As the light turned green he tore off down the highway.  I looked back and only got a glance of Harold’s truck crashed into the car.

I kept telling this man that I needed to go home.  I had children that I needed to get to.  I needed to let my family know what was happening.  He wouldn’t listen.  He just continued to say over and over that he was a professional race car driver and that he would out drive my husband and keep me safe.  We headed south on Interstate 75 from Brandon.  I had no idea where he was taking me and he didn’t seem too keen on answering any questions.

In all the commotion, I wasn’t sure whether this man was saving me… or, kidnapping me.  He insisted that he was my savior, but I lean much more toward the kidnapping.