Dear Ann (Part Two)

Dear Ann, Part Two :

So we left the Concord Square Apartments and drove to Northridge Hospital in Mary Sean Young's car, again with Lys and I riding in the back, Mary driving and you, Ann, in the passenger seat. Let me note here that I currently work in Reseda and have, on many occasions over the past few years walked over to Concord Square in order to try and visualize certain details, like where Mary's car was parked. I remember that she was parked facing east, so to turn around in the proper direction we had to drive a couple of hundred yards down an access road that serves the apartment complexes along Sherman Way between Lindley and White Oak. We came to an exit from this road and then doubled back going west in order to drive in the direction of the hospital. I remember that Mary didn't know the way, so Lys guided her. There was a sense of urgency to get there quickly, but no one was in a panic.

Northridge Hospital is 1.75 miles from Concord Square, so we probably arrived there no more than five minutes after we departed. I have a vague memory of parking in the lot, followed by what I will call a "separated memory" of being inside a hospital lobby. I use the word "separated" because the memory of being in the lobby is not connected to anything before or afterwards. It is not part of a continuous memory sequence, as are the memories from Concord Square. After Lys gave Mary the directions to the hospital, I lose the continuity for a little while. But I do remember being in a hospital lobby, and I do remember a lot of commotion in there. I also recall Lys pushing me in a wheelchair. There was an authority figure there too, a man who knew what had happened at the apartment and was trying to control the situation. Once again, he was not a police officer.

My memory of being in the hospital lobby is real, however because it is not continuous with the memory stream that preceded it, which I have described to you in detail, I would like to set it aside for now. It seems as though the lobby must have been at Northridge Hospital, since Lys was present, but because I cannot be certain of it's place in the timeline of that night, I will now move on to what I do remember clearly and continuously.

I remember that all four of us were back in the car. I am assuming that prior to this, you Ann, at the very least, got out of the car, went into the hospital and inquired about my being accepted in the emergency room. There would have been no other reason for us to go to the hospital in the first place. Also, I have my "separated" memory of being in a hospital lobby, with Lys. I mention all of this to say that I believe that either you or all of us went inside the hospital, inquired at the emergency room, and I was rejected because of a lack of health insurance or possibly because it was determined that the paramedic had already treated me. Whatever the case, we were soon back in Mary's car, and it is at this point where my memories of going to Northridge Hospital become visceral and most acute.

We were back in the car, and another car pulled up alongside us. It was a Mercedes sedan, driven by the mother of the young man who lived in the apartment where the initial incident took place. Again I assume you know what I am talking about. He obviously must have called his mother after I was injured, or maybe after we went to the hospital, and it is certain that he would have been frightened or at least very anxious. After all, I had almost died inside his apartment.

As the Mercedes pulled up next to us, I could see that his mother was driving, I could see him in the passenger seat, and, in the back seat I could see your sister. The window rolled down and we could all see her clearly. Lys yelled at her to get into our car, and after some more prompting, she did exit the Mercedes and get in, sitting in back on the opposite side of me, with Lys in the middle. Her demeanor was like a deer in the headlights and bore little resemblance to the girl I knew. I was in shock, and very likely so was she.

I remember no more of the Mercedes sedan, so it is possible that it was driven away by the young man's mother, with him inside. I believe they remained in the Northridge Hospital parking lot, however, because I have a specific memory of the mother a short while later.

What I remember next Ann, after your sister got into the car with us, is one of the most visceral memories I have of my entire twelve day experience. I have not only never forgotten what happened at this point, but I can remember it like I am watching a movie, as if it is happening right now.

It was one of the most terrifying events of my life, because it happened so suddenly and with such fury, and I know, Ann, because you and the other women were in the car with me, that it was one of the most terrifying events in your life too.

As we sat in the car, with your sister now in the back seat, we were preparing to leave. Maybe there was some discussion before starting the car, about what to do with me next. But my next memory begins with a very startling noise on the trunk of the car and on the back windshield. "Wham"!!! It felt like the car had been hit from behind and also on top. A force had landed on the rear of the car and smashed the back windshield. I was somewhat "out of it", but the noise and force shocked me into awareness. I remember turning my head to look outside, and I saw a very large man throwing himself up onto the trunk of the car while swinging a thick metal chain against the back windshield. He hit the glass full force with his chain, his large body had slammed onto the trunk, and in that moment it looked like he would burst through the back windshield and kill all of us.

He looked like a monster, completely enraged and murderous. I very clearly remember the three of you ladies screaming your heads off. "Oh my God! There's a psycho on the back of the car"! Lys especially was yelling at Mary, "Go! Go! Go! Drive Away! Go"!

I remember that Mary replied to Lys, "I can't. I'm blocked in"! This was because there was a parking curb directly in front of her and a car parked behind. The car in back may have been a police car. We would later discover that there was a policeman on site, but he would inform you ladies that he was powerless to do anything about what was happening. Years later I would understand that his inability to act resulted from a lack of jurisdiction. What was happening that night was under Federal auspices. The LAPD and Sheriffs could do nothing to intervene.

As the enraged, linebacker sized man continued to hit the back windshield with his tow chain, a glimmer of recognition dawned on me. I know this guy.

"It's Howard"!, I remember saying in a small voice. Yes indeed, the crazed attacker on the back of the car was a man named Howard Schaller, who I recognized because I had worked with him at Metrocolor Laboratories on the MGM Studio Lot, years earlier from 1979 through 1981. Howard had long grey hair, big muscles and resembled a biker from a motorcycle gang.

But I hadn't seen Howard since 1982, seven years earlier. My mind flashed. I was still "inside myself" from the shock I had suffered earlier in the evening, but I was able to register that it was indeed Howard Schaller outside the car.

My mind raced. All I could think was "It's Howard", and "why"? "What is he doing here? And what does he want with me"?

(to be continued tomorrow)