Was He Really A Famous Race Car Driver?

As I was relating the previous series of events to Scott, we became curious.  Very curious.  Was my kidnapper really a famous race car driver?  Scott, being an avid NASCAR fan, had to know.

So… we began a little research.

Why hadn’t I thought to look into this guy more on my own?  Was I just settling for thinking that he must have been lying the whole time?  Or, did I just not care?

Looking up this person online, it was hard to tell from the pictures.  Of course, what happened was almost 19 years ago… and, all the photos we found of the man we were researching were much more recent.  But…

It did look like him.

His hair wasn’t buzzed and he had a moustache 19 years ago, but… It did look like him.

We found that his marital status, etc. matched.  Hmmm….

We also discovered that the person we were researching did live in Florida during that time.  Hmmm….

Scott looked up the schedules for that weekend and the driver didn’t participate in any races during that time.  Hmmm….

We found videos of the driver and his voice did sound the same.  Hmmm….

Oh… and, he even raced IROC for a while which looked very similar to the car this man was driving that night.  (And, of course, I could have mistaken a Firebird for a Camaro.)  Hmmm…

There was other more personal information we found that coincided.  Hmmm…

There were so many coincidences.  Too many similarities.

Circumstantial?  Of course, it could be.  Could this man have been some sort of psycho fan impersonating the driver?  Sure.  Was he someone who worked for the driver and that’s how he knew some of the information he did?  Possible.

Was he really this famous race car driver?  I definitely couldn’t rule it out!

No matter who he was, what made him do an about-face so suddenly?  Did sleep clear his mind?  Did seeing his wife bring him to his senses?  Did he sober up and realize what he had done?  Did I have a lucky break?  Who knows?  Whatever it was, I was thankful it didn’t end up much worse.  (Especially with all that my family was going through that weekend.)

Was he really a famous race driver?

Hmmm….

A Nightmare Plays Out In Real Time – Part 3 – “Escape… or, More Imprisonment?”

I awoke to a loud banging on the front door.  As soon as I opened my eyes he was jumping out of bed and putting on his pants.  He whispered to me that I’d better not make a sound or come out of the room as he pointed the gun at me.  He left the bedroom door open just a  little and I could see the front door from the bed.  He opened the front door to a woman yelling at him about money.  He said something about his kid or kids and I got the impression that this woman was his wife.  I couldn’t hear everything they were saying, only bits and pieces of things here and there that I was trying to put together. From what I could tell they were separated and had at least one child together.  He never had the front door opened more than 6 inches or so… just enough for him to talk to her and hand her money out of his wallet.  I wish I could hear more.  I wish I could understand more of what I was hearing.

All of a sudden he was back in the room ordering me to get out of bed and telling me I had to leave.  Leave?  Hell, yeah!  That’s exactly what I had been wanting to do since he grabbed me.  He put the nightie back in the closet and made sure the living room was straightened up and plugged the phone back in the kitchen as he told me to call my mother to come get me.  I happily made the call and he gave her directions of how to get to his house.  I was finally going home.  I could finally see my kids.  Thank God!

As we waited for my mother to come get me, he was talking very sweetly about how happy he was that he was able to rescue me.  He kept telling me how lucky I was that he came along when he did.  He wanted to cook me breakfast, but I just wanted my mom to be there so I could get as far away from this man as possible.  He kept me busy with small talk and the time passed quickly.

As soon as my mom came to the door I was ready to walk out, but he had her and my kids come in.  What the hell?  He was being so sweet to them and it was making me sick not to scream out what he had done, but I had no idea how he’d react and now my children were in this house with him, too.  He had my mom so convinced that he was such a great guy that she was actually thanking him for helping me.  Thankfully, we were finally leaving.

As soon as we got in the car, I began telling her how I had no idea who he was and that he just “took” me in the midst of all the commotion.  I was so busy talking to her about what had happened that I didn’t bother to look at the address or even the name of the neighborhood we were leaving.

Soon we were talking about Harold and I wasn’t thinking so much of the race car driver.  In fact, with being able to focus on Harold again, I forgot about my kidnapper altogether.  That seems strange to me now, but I guess I was putting my energy where the most CURRENT threat was.  It was the last time I saw that man face-to-face.  But, his name would come up while watching a race and I would always wonder.  I settled for thinking that it couldn’t be him… that the man who kidnapped me was just using his name to try to impress me or something.  But, will I ever know for sure?

Mom and I thought it best that we take the kids to a hotel and hide out for the weekend so that Harold wouldn’t be able to find us.  I went to the ATM to get cash for the hotel, but Harold had already emptied the bank account.  We ended up at a hotel in Brandon far enough away from home that he wouldn’t think to look for us there, but close enough that if something happened we could get home quickly.

It was Mother’s Day weekend and I was spending it hiding out in a hotel room with my mother and children.  That day and the next I went to pay phones to call Harold’s family in NC telling them what happened and asking them to help.  Help us… and, help him.  Maybe if he went for a visit with them, it would help clear his mind.  Maybe they could talk to him.  Maybe they could convince him to get away from the drugs.

Apparently, he had already given them a very different version of the events that took place.  He had them convinced that even though he did what he did, it was MY fault and that I deserved it.  They wouldn’t even believe me that he was threatening our kids and my family, too.  How could they not believe me?  How could they think this was my fault?  I had always been extremely close to his family.  In fact, they kept in touch with me more than they did him.  I loved them so much.  I never thought of them as in-laws.  I thought of them as MY family.  They knew him.  They knew me.  How could they not believe what I was telling them?  How could they ignore the fact that he was so messed up on drugs?  I guess it didn’t matter.  I felt so lost.  I felt so hopeless.  I thought if nothing else, I could always turn to them for help.

Each time I walked out the hotel room door for food or anything else, I was scouting for Harold.  We spent that weekend in fear that he would find us.  Scared that he would carry out his threats.  There was no way for me to know that he was, in fact, about to carry out one threat he had made for years.

No way for me to know how drastically my life would be changing forever.

A Nightmare Plays Out In Real Time – Part 2 – “The Race Car Driver”

It was late.  I was thankful that I hadn’t had more than a few drinks but, I was still disoriented from all that was happening.  I didn’t even notice what exit we took from the interstate.  Finally, we were inside a garage and he was leading me into his house all the while telling me again and again that he was a famous race car driver.

Inside, I wanted to immediately use the phone to call my mom and check on my kids.  For some time, he refused to let me use the phone.  After begging, pleading, threatening, yelling, and then crying, he broke down and let me use the phone to call home.  He stood right there with me as I made my call.  The information I received during that phone call chilled my blood.  Harold had gone to the house and was threatening to kill my family… even our children.  My God!  I had to get home.  I had to go to them right then!  Why wouldn’t this man listen to me?  Why was he refusing to take me home or let me tell my mother where I was so that she could come get me?

He took the phone from me and turned on the sweetest voice you’d ever heard.  He told my mother that he had rescued me and that he would keep me safe and that he thought the last place I should be was at home.  He said that Harold didn’t know where I was and couldn’t get to me.  No shit.  I didn’t even know where I was.  But, I knew where I should be.  I should have been home with my kids protecting them.

Why was this man so hell-bent on keeping me with him?  Was he really trying to help me?

I was so confused.  I kept replaying the night’s events over in my head.  All the while this man is insisting he’s a professional race car driver and that he was going to keep me safe.  I knew the name he gave me and was wishing I’d paid more attention to what the guys looked like instead of just their cars.  He talked about racing… cars… other drivers.  Was he really who he said he was?  Harold’s brother-in-law worked for Kyle Petty so I knew a little information about some of the drivers… but, I’d never focused on anyone’s face.  This guy did seem to know quite a bit that coincided with what my brother-in-law had shared with me.  Things that only the drivers and pit crews see and hear.  Could it be?  I had no idea what to believe.

All I knew for sure is that I was worried sick about my kids and mom and brother.  Harold had told them he’d kill them all.  I was scared.  I wanted to be with them.  I wanted to believe that he was only messed on up something and wouldn’t really hurt them.  I wanted to know that they were safe.  I wanted to know that he was coming down off of whatever he was on.

What had Mom said?  Harold had called her saying he needed her to pick him up.  She did and that’s when she found out about the wreck.  Why did the deputies not arrest him?  Why did they IGNORE the fact he was reeking of alcohol and obviously hyped up on some drug?  Why did they let him go?

When they had gotten back to her house, she said he went wild insisting that she tell him where I was.  She didn’t know.  Hell, I didn’t even know.  But, at that point she really had no idea what had happened or where I was.  He then ranted about killing us all and that he would wait across the street at the school to see when I came home.  My poor brother and his girlfriend waited up all night watching out the front window for him.  Thank God they were able to make him leave the house… but, I hated that they weren’t sure if he’d be back or not.

Meanwhile, I was taken to the living room where tapes of pre-qualifying and such were playing on the TV.  I noticed mail sitting on the coffee table in front of us and he snatched it up before I could read the name or… address.  *sigh*  He pointed to the TV and told me to watch.  There was a lot of footage that made the tape appear to be “home-made”.    It was mostly of the cars, though.  From time to time he would say, “There I am” as a car would come into the shot and talk about how the car was loose or hot or whatever.  I was only half listening as I was trying to make sense of everything.  I felt like I was caught in a nightmare and this couldn’t possibly be real.

I remember realizing all of a sudden that he was talking about my husband again.  I told him I didn’t care about anything and I just wanted to go home.  I wanted to go home!  Home!  He reached beside him and pulled out a small pistol to show me.  Where did that come from?  When did he put a gun by his side?  WHAT THE HELL WAS GOING ON?  He alternated between telling me how I was NOT going home, and then telling me how he would protect me.  My head hurt.  I was scared.  I didn’t know what to think… about anything… anyone… anymore.

How did this night get so screwed up?  What did I do wrong?  Did I create this mess I was in?

Hours passed as he continued to talk about racing and keeping me safe… keeping the gun either in his hand or on his lap pointed in my direction.  Even the couple of times I had to use the bathroom, he was standing just outside with the gun and would only let the door close enough at an angle that I wasn’t in full view.

After several hours, he finally said that it was time for us to get some rest.  He had me go with him as he pulled a nightie out of the closet.  (Who hangs up nighties?)  It was completely sheer except for small patches over the breasts and crotch area.  Did he think I was putting on this thing?  I refused to wear it.  At first he was angry and waving around the gun a little more wildly.  But, then… he calmed down and told me to just get into bed as he stripped down to his underwear.  I told him that I was not sleeping with him… or doing anything else, for that matter.  I told him he’d just have to go ahead and shoot me.  After arguing for some time, he finally told me to just get in bed and go to sleep.  I laid down on top of the covers still fully clothed and on the edge of the bed furthest away from him.  He laid facing me and with the gun still in his hand.  I questioned what if he accidentally fired the gun in his sleep.  He took his finger off the trigger, but still held a tight grip.  I laid there waiting for him to fall asleep.  I didn’t know exactly what my plan was for once he did, but I waited.  I laid there thinking about how the doors had keyed deadbolts on them that he had locked as soon as we arrived and put the keys… where?  Where were the keys?  Grrrrrrrrr… I didn’t know where the keys were.  I could at least use the phone … no, wait.  There was only the phone in the kitchen and he had taken that off the wall after he let me use it.  Where did he put it?  *sigh*

I was so tired.  I was exhausted and sleepy.  I just wanted to close my eyes and sleep.  I just wanted to rest for a bit.  I would close my eyes to rest but only for a minute.  Oh, that felt so good.  Closing my eyes felt good.  I opened them again only to find him still staring at me.  I would just rest my eyes until he fell asleep and then try to figure out what to do.

I would just… close my eyes… long enough… for him… to… fall… asleep.