GAY PEOPLE'S CHRONICLE MAY 5, 1995

EDITORIAL

There won't always be a hero to the rescue

On a recent Saturday night, yet another gay man was the victim of a brutal hate crime. While walking to his parked car after an evening at a dance club on Cleveland's West Side, he was attacked by three men shouting anti-gay epithets, and badly beaten. In his letter to the editor below, he describes himself as an attorney with a prestigious Cleveland firm, financially secure, and closeted.

Fortunately for him, amid all the hateful, evil people who would do us harm, there exists a few heroes. Jeremy Sammons is one such hero. Seeing what was happening, Sammons put his own life on the line and came to the aid of the badly beaten man. "I couldn't believe what was happening," Sammons said. "I looked back, and it was too far to go back to the club for help, so I did what I had to do."

Sammons, a black belt in tae kwon do who teaches self-defense classes, proceeded to put on a martial arts demonstration. He was able to throw off one of the attackers. He landed a kick to the chest of another. The victim, lying bleeding on the ground, somehow managed to trip the third attacker. Having seen enough, two of the three gutless thugs fled on foot, while the one that had been kicked in the chest lay on the ground, crying. Sammons was able to help the victim to his car, and took him immediately to an emergency room.

"I was driving the car and he [the victim]

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was just moaning. I was really afraid that he might die in my car-that's how beat up he was," Sammons said. "I couldn't even tell what he looked like; his face was so swollen that he looked like the elephant man."

Sammons stayed with the victim all night, waiting for him in the emergency room, and helping him home. During all the excitement, Sammons didn't have time to realize that he too, had been the victim of a hate crime. Since the incident, he has been having nightmares, reliving the horror of that night in his mind. He cried when we spoke on the phone, acknowledging that even though he was able to fend off the attackers, he will never be the same again. “Another man passed by while all of this was going on. I know he saw what was happening, but he ran away. He didn't help.”"

Maybe deep down we all know that we would have done the same thing: ran away as fast as we could-to our nice car, to our safe, closeted existence. We know that there aren't too many heroes out there like Jeremy Sammons, willing to sacrifice their own life for what is right. We must ask ourselves, "What would I have done?" Perhaps our answer frightens us.

The perpetrators of this crime shattered more than the bones in the victim's body. They also shattered the illusion of safety that he had built up around himself—the myth that says "Things like this don't happen to people like me." But things like this do

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happen to people like him, and to people like us, all over this country. Evil does exist in the hearts and minds of the people who would like to see us exterminated.

The bogeyman is real, and regardless of how much we try to convince ourselves otherwise, our closets can not keep us safe, and our silence will not protect us. It was the closet and its false sense of security that prevented this victim from filing a police report-even though he had one of the attackers' wallets, which contained identification. It was the closet which prevented this victim from staying overnight in the hospital, as the doctors wanted, and getting the medical attention he so desperately needed.

The next victim may not be as lucky as this one was. Had Sammons not shown up, we might be running this victim's obituary instead of his letter to the editor.

To the victim: Please get the help that you need. You have been in a situation that we all hope and pray will never happen to anyone that we know or love, but, unfortunately, we know that it will. Having been there, you know that it is real. And you, thankfully, survived it, but think of all of those people who didn't.

Think of all the people who might not survive the next beating at the hands of these same criminals if you stay silent. Nobody wants to see you victimized all over again, but you have the power to get these lunatics off the street, so they can never do this to another person. No one should have to go through the hell that you and Jeremy went through that night. You have a responsibility to the next potential victim to do the right thing-the courageous thing. Yes, it will involve some personal risk for you-but think of what Jeremy risked.

Call the anti-discrimination project at the Cleveland Lesbian-Gay Center (216522-1999). Report this as a hate crime. The Center has done amazing work in terms of strengthening the ties between the gay community and the police department. The Center has a strong relationship with the Community Relations Department of the City of Cleveland. There is a Gay Attorney's League that is forming; between 15 and 30 people show up for their monthly meetings. Al Cowger, an attorney and Center board member, urges you to contact him as well as the group through the Center's number. There are people out there who are willing to be a support base for you. They assure you that your anonymity will be maintained if that is your wish.

It's not often that a hero shows up to save the day. You now have the opportunity to be a hero yourself. You can do it. You must.✔

COMMUNITY FORUM

Saved from bashers

To the Editors:

I am a 27-year-old closeted homosexual, and due to the nature of the incident I am about to describe, and the job I am currently employed at, I cannot divulge my name. But I refuse to let that stop me from writing you about something that happened to me on Saturday, April 8.

As a closeted homosexual, I have always feared the idea of gay-bashers. But like the bogeyman, I truly believed them to exist only in myth. I was soon proven wrong. My friends all decided to go out, so I met up with them at U4ia in Cleveland. After a fun evening, they all left one by one, but I decided to stay. When I went to leave about 2:00, I knew that I had to walk about a block to get to my car, but I wasn't worried. It turns out that I should have been.

I had just stuck the key in my car door when someone grabbed me from behind. They had a hold of me before I had even realized they were there. I tried to scream out but I was being hit over and over by someone else. The guy that grabbed me threw me down to the ground, and that's when I saw that there were three of them.

They started kicking me and I cried out in fear, covering my face with both hands and rolling up in a ball. “Why are you doing this?" I screamed. "Faggot!" "Cocksucker!" and "Fuckin' queer!" were their only replies.

I didn't know what to do. I tried to get up, tried to scream, but they just slugged me in the face and laughed. Pain, I felt the blood running down my face, heard the crack of bone in my chest, and felt the touch of unconsciousness. The only thought running through my head as I passed out was, "God, please don't let me die! Please!"

That's when I heard a voice shouting from the other side of the parking lot. I saw through the pain that the voice was coming from some blurry teenage guy. I prayed that he'd run for help, prayed that these guys would not run after him. But he didn't run for help. He ran towards us. I cried out, but he was already there beside us.

Now I'm not really sure what happened next, but it seemed like one of those kung-fu movies. He grabbed one of the guys and flipped him across the parking lot, where he landed and screamed. The other two guys started at the young man. Somehow, I managed to trip

one of them, and the other received a kick in his chest that I am positive must have broken at least one rib. While the guy was helping me up and over to his car, the attacker that had been thrown ran away, as well as the one I had tripped. The guy that had gotten kicked just lay there crying; he couldn't have been more than 19. I saw a wallet lying on the ground and motioned towards it. The guy helping me grabbed it. We got into his car and he took me to the emergency room.

Two hours later I was released. Two broken ribs, a fractured wrist, a minor concussion, and lots of bruises were what I had to show for my ordeal. That, and an anxious young man named Jeremy, who probably saved my life, sitting out in the waiting room. I finally got to meet the guy who'd saved me. When I refused to file a police report due to the publicity it would cause, I thought I might need someone to save me again. By this time, it was four in the morning and when Jeremy insisted that I let him drop me off at my apartment, I agreed only on two conditions: One, that he tell me about himself so I would know the guy who saved my life; and two, that he show me that throw. By the time we got back to my place, I knew

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Volume 10, Issue 22

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that his name was Jeremy Sammons, soon to transfer to Baldwin Wallace College, 19, very cute, and very uncomfortable with the idea of staying overnight. (It was about 4:30 am, and I was in no condition to put the moves on anyone!)

The next morning I decided that I was going to give this boy something for helping me, but the only thing he'd accept was breakfast. He refused money, gifts, or even money for gas. Now, I have money, I am very financially secure, and I work for a very prestigious law firm... I just could not figure this guy out. He left after breakfast. I got his phone number in case I decided to change my mind about the police report, and I still have the one attacker's wallet. But to tell you the truth, this whole situation has changed my mind about a lot of different things; gaybashers do exist, anyone can be a victim, and somewhere in the world there are wonderful

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