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BOOKS
Rhonda's
Story Then I noticed the gun. I was filling salt shakers at the front of the restaurant. "This is a jack," the one with the gun said. Later I learned that means a "holdup." It wasn't difficult to figure out with a gun pointed at me. They forced all nine of us, seven staff and two customers, through the kitchen into the back of the restaurant. "Please don't hurt us," we pleaded over and over. They were already getting violent with the cashier, hitting him a lot with the butt of the gun. I think they singled him out because he didn't understand the gunman's slang. We had to drag him with us; they hit him so hard and so often he couldn't move. Then they herded us all into the walk-in freezer and robbed our jewelry, our tips, whatever we had. One kept saying, "We're not going to kill you. We're not going to kill you. Just do what we say." All of us were praying. We all had our own backgrounds and religions, but we all prayed out loud, together. Ditas the waitress was doing her rosary. She had the beads clutched in her hands when she was killed. They ordered us to get to the back of the freezer. I was shaking so badly, not from the cold, but from terror. They said, "Lie down on the floor." The cashier was already unconscious on the floor, or maybe dead from the beating. We couldn't tell and that only contributed to our panic. We were lying on each other in the freezer. To put everything into a time perspective, only about a minute and a half, maybe two, had passed since they entered the restaurant. They sure were organized when they barged in, getting behind the registers, herding all of us into the freezer. But then they acted like they didn't know what to do next, now with us in the freezer. They stepped out and we prayed again. I've always believed at first they didn't have any intention of shooting us—that it was just a last-minute decision. The freezer door opened. I heard the first gunshot. For an instant I remember thinking, "This isn't possible." Then I heard a moan. I remember reasoning, "They have everything, we can't do anything else for them. Why would we be shot?" So the first shot—I couldn't believe it, shooting us? No! My hair was in an Afro and I felt the bullets pass through my hair. The first volley of shots didn't last long, probably just seconds. They left the freezer. The door shuts automatically. I remember just being frozen stiff. Nobody moved, no one talked. We were paralyzed with fear. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion—that slow-motion feeling was weird. They came back in. Ditas, already shot and bleeding, began to stand and said, "Oh, no, please. We won't say anything. Just leave us. Just leave. We won't say anything." They shot her again. Her body actually flew back against me. I still have nightmares of her body against me, her blood pouring onto me. But her body was my protection. Then our chef was shot in the neck, in front of my head. I remember his body vibrating against me when he died. Others were being shot too, but they were a few inches away from me. I have purposely not thought about this for so long—the screams, broken only with moans, dying moans. Ditas was still against me. I could feel and hear her breathing. Then she moaned a little and died quietly. I thought, "She just had a baby. Who will care for her baby?" I remember hearing the drip drip of the blood trickling down the drain in the middle of the floor. I was breathing so hard, but trying not to breathe. I was unable to control my breathing or urine. I let my body go. At that point I faked death. It was odd; in my mind, my funeral passed in front of me. Just as they left, one of them said, "Wait! She's not dead." I knew it was me they were talking about. "Let's get out of here now," the other one yelled. The door slammed. We listened—didn't hear anything outside. Then the manager said, "Rhonda, you're alive?" "Yes!" "Rhonda, am I shot?" I moved enough so I could see him—my God, his eye was completely blown out. He kept asking, "Am I shot? Am I shot?" I told him, "No, you're not shot." I don't know why I said that, I just did. I pushed Evelyn's body off me and gave myself a once-over. The manager said, "We've got to help these people." He still didn't realize he was shot and that his eye was missing. Four people were dead. Four more wounded. I was the only one not shot. Bryan
(Rhonda's husband) I know a few cops and I've heard them say that it becomes an unconscious habit, planning to survive something. We never pull up and say, "Just in case this place gets robbed, you go ahead and take off." We never discuss that stuff now. We discussed it enough in the beginning that now it's just an unspoken thing between us. Rhonda I've thought about this over and over in my mind. I'm positive the situation would have been different if there had been some kind of training for something like this, training beyond customer service. Maybe someone would have gotten away. Maybe that would have panicked the gunmen. I was way off mentally. I thought, "I'll be safer if I just cooperate." Following them like sheep gave them more and more control. Those first few seconds, we had the best chances. No doubt about it in my mind. Bryan and I have changed so much—sitting with our backs to the walls, knowing where the exits are, looking at people when they come in, sitting in the back of a restaurant, like cops. It will give us an extra second or two. Bryan and I feel our best defense is not weapons, it's our talking and planning that will make the difference for us, giving us a better chance than the people around us who probably haven't talked about it. We know if we have to run for it, Bryan has this kid and I've got that one. It's not a guarantee, but it's a better chance. For
the Record Do What I Tell You or I kill Her' As Rhonda pointed out, criminals control victims by threatening their friends and colleagues. "Connections" stop everyone from concentrating on escape and taking action. I remember a serial rapist we had of over forty victims; he frequently controlled two or more at once with a knife by threatening to kill the one he was raping. The others were forced to watch, horrified and completely under his control. At most crime scenes, people are paralyzed with fear over what will happen to them and others. Lives are lost because no one makes that first explosive move. No one shouts survival orders. I've been at the scenes and heard the laments of survivors: "If only I had…" When mind-setting against crime, include scenarios and decisions that place you in a leadership role at the time of exploding violence. If it happens when your family and friends are with you, your leadership may save lives. It was published by a business conglomerate for their employees & clients.
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