The Unlikely Messenger: A Slice of Life with Debra Brown
My heart raced when I noticed shiny pennies glistening against the pavement near my car.
I looked around as my rational mind said, “Calm down. You’re safe. You haven’t experienced a stalking incident in decades.”
But my rational mind didn’t help me get groceries into the car or drive home as my Charleston stalker memories returned. He’d used pennies to terrorize me for years before I married Allen and moved to Georgia.
It began with hangups on the home landline and escalated to obscenities by an unknown man’s voice.
“It’s creepy,” my roommate Audrey said. “He only calls when you’re here.”
The calls seemed tame after I found scattered pennies by my car at the office, grocery store, on our front porch welcome mat – everywhere.
“It’s like he’s letting you know he’s there and watching,” Audrey said.
I jumped at any noise and scanned my surroundings. I scrutinized every male, wondering, “Is he the one?”
I talked to God daily about the situation, asking for help. “I can’t handle this alone.”
One Friday night, Audrey and I ordered in. The delivery guy brought pizza to our two-story downtown carriage house.
Swirls of conversation and delicious aromas permeated the room. While eating, we heard another knock.
Not expecting anyone, I asked several times, “Who’s there?”
Nothing.
“I’m calling the police,” I shouted.
He kicked the door so hard the regular lock released, but the chain latch held, keeping him outside.
My heart hammered at the thought of him getting inside as I dialed 9-1-1.
He disappeared before the police arrived.
As the scattered pennies continued to follow me, I prayed: “Lord, please keep me and those around me safe.”
One Friday night, I returned home late from a date and went right to sleep.
Kaboom!
I shot out of bed. What exploded?
Audrey rushed to my room, her face ashen. She fastened the deadbolt lock the cops suggested we install during their last visit.
Huddled together, we heard footsteps coming up the stairs.
She screamed out the window, “Help! Please, help us!”
“He’s in the house,” I whispered to the 9-1-1 dispatcher. I couldn’t breathe.
Again, the stalker vanished before the officers arrived.
But he left behind a bone-chilling scene.
One officer guided me to the alcove between the living room and the eat-in kitchen, where the damage occurred.
I examined the bare space where the ficus tree and heavy antique table usually sat. Broken glass littered the floor.
“He moved those items,” the officer said, “to make more impact when he threw the log through the window from outside. The glass and log hitting the floor caused the explosion you heard.”
He then pointed to the small storage closet located across from the window.
“It appears he rushed back inside and hid there, waiting for you to run downstairs after the commotion. I’m glad you both stayed upstairs and called us.”
The intruder ignored several valuables downstairs.
“He wasn’t interested in your property,” said another officer who’d surveyed the scene. “Once he started up the stairs, he wanted you.”
After the latest traumatic event, Audrey relocated, and I moved. My praying intensified, ending with, “Lord, please give me strength of mind and body to stay safe.”
The scattered pennies continued, and I stayed diligent.
As thunder rumbled in the distance, I rechecked the locked doors and windows before bedtime, noticing the moon veiled by clouds.
Some minutes later, lightning flashed beyond the window, followed by a sharp clap of thunder.
I’d settled into bed with a book when my cat hissed and twisted her head toward the window.
“It’s OK,” I told her as the lights flickered, but I struggled before falling asleep.
Late in the night, a sound startled me awake. My skin prickled. An icy grip of fear clutched my chest as the air suddenly felt dank. I froze, my eyes darting to the man who stood in the corner.
I stayed deathly still, pretending to sleep while praying he wouldn’t hurt me. When I eased my eyes open, he’d gone.
I convinced myself I’d dreamed it until I found the front door ajar. Something fell when I pushed it.
“Magazines?” I opened one and gasped at the gruesome torture scenes.
“I’m concerned for your safety,” the detective said, suggesting I take self-defense classes, which I did.
The stalking stopped when I married Allen and left town.
But my fear followed me. Every detail of the stalking returned anytime I saw a penny on the ground.
The unease lingered until a Dr. Seuss quote put the situation in perspective.
“When something bad happens, you have three choices. You can either let it define you, let it destroy you, or you can let it strengthen you.”
Evil exists, but God guided me through each incident to be a survivor, not a victim.
With his assurance in Isaiah 41:13, He gives me the courage to live without fear.
For I am the Lord your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, ‘Do not fear; I will help you’” – Isaiah 41:13.
God’s promise comforts me during the most uncertain times, even when I find scattered pennies.
Debra Brown’s motto is “Be the Spark.” She has a passion for family, her 3 cats, flowers, pretty food, and health & wellness. Debra is an author, UGA honors graduate/The Citadel MBA.