It was a little after 10 this past Monday morning and we had a lot to do before the start of Rosh Hashanah (Jewish New Year) at sundown. The first stop was the Eyezone. Dmitriy had my new lenses. I had to drop off my glasses. There was a lot of traffic on Mayfield Road. We were going well below the 35 mph speed limit. I noticed the right lane was moving faster. We were behind a grey vehicle with Connecticut plates. It wasn’t until I got past Lander Road that I realized that there wasn’t a vehicle in front of the grey SUV. We were almost to our destination. There was no need to try to get around him for just another couple of blocks.
The grey vehicle, still in the left lane, slowed down to a crawl. Both Sally and I were concerned. Then it stopped, right on Mayfield Road and we saw the driver get out. Sally wondered if he was lost. I figured that he was out of gas.
The man approached our car, a Lincoln Corsair. He was a Black man, stocky, my guess – 5’7” and 170 pounds. I lowered my window and asked him what’s up. He didn’t say a word. He appeared agitated. He got right up to my window and just stared. I raised the window. His mouth was moving. I don’t know if he was saying anything or just mouthing words. Were we about to get car-jacked? Robbed? Shot? I hit the button for voice commands and said, “9 1 1”. Nothing. It turns out that with a Lincoln you must specifically say, “Dial 9 1 1” or the system just wonders if you want to use the phone or find a radio station. There was a large red pick-up right behind me. I couldn’t move. The man has not left. He is inches from the glass, staring into the car, mouthing words. I try the voice command again. Nothing. I am concentrating on his hands. I don’t see a gun or a knife, which is good. But I have no idea what is in his pockets. Sally has been watching the red pick-up. It speeds by us on the right. I checked the rearview mirror. Looked clear. I backed up quickly. My mirror brushed his shirt as I got past him. He was startled, but did not move. I moved to the right lane as soon as I could safely got past him.
Were we shaken? You bet. Can I tell you the make and model of the vehicle? NO! And no, we did not write down the license plate number. We would make terrible witnesses.
This is Mayfield Heights. This is a safe neighborhood. No one is threatening to send in the National Guard to our little suburb. Are we safe in Mayfield Heights? You are safe until you aren’t. Sally and I travel. We are often asked if we feel safe in Punta Cana or Mexico, or in the other places we visit. I always say “Yes”. You must have situational awareness. You can’t do stupid things. You don’t tempt the fates, but I have never worried about walking around New York City at night. I feel at home in the Caribbean.
Our second stop on Monday was the Cleveland Clinic main campus to visit a friend. Sally expressed concern about driving back on Mayfield Road. I hate that she would have any doubts about her safety. She will get over this, but we should never be forced to live in fear.
Dave
Picture – Welcome To Mayfield Heights – David L Cunix