My Carjacking

I have no idea exactly why this was on my mind yesterday, but it was. I thought for awhile about the time I was carjacked and I spent time reflecting on the trial. This really is a serious topic, so if you're waiting for a joke you might as well move on....

This isn't something I talk about much - for awhile, it was pretty much all I thought about, but these days I don't even think about it often. It isn't avoidance - it just doesn't control my life, so it's a surprise when it does come up. For the record, I truly believe being the victim of a violent crime changes you forever.

Back story: I used to be married, and I used to drive a black Camaro. We were newleyweds - our first year of marriage back in 2000 and I went a few blocks away to clean my car at one of those self-wash places. At this time, I spent a lot of time making sure every inch was cleaned appropriately, doing the tires, getting crevices, using 5 different liquids inside the car, treating the leather, etc etc. It was nice and warm outside, and I drifted into the routine of cleaning getting lost in it without much recognition of anything around me. I then drove home, tired but pleased with my work and I pulled into my apartment complex, barely noticing the car following behind me. I turned the corner, then another corner towards my parking spot and it barely registered that the car behind me slipped into a covered parking spot about 5 spots down from mine.

I turned off the car and opened my door. Now, you recall I mentioned that I drove a Camaro, specifically the 99 body style. It was a 2-door with these huge doors kinda like airplane wings. I mean, seriously, they were huge doors that swung wide. Anyway, the instant I opened my door, there was suddenly a large mass in between the door and the door frame. This is the point in which I say "it all happened so fast". There's no way to crystalize that statement into reality if you haven't experienced it, so I won't try. But, if you've been in a car accident or had some similar experience, you can visualize what was happening for me at this point. This mass demanded my keys. I was still mentally elsewhere and hadn't caught up, and ended up staring blankly at him without any recognition as to what was occuring. That's when his arm swung with the knife, twice - he caught me on the knee and on the palm of my hand. It seemed like minutes, but it was just a few seconds - that's all the time it took for my brain to finally process what was occuring, using the blood coming out of my hand as a time-saving catalyst. I didn't think at that point about anything other than not dying. The car didn't matter. I got out of the car giving him my keys promptly, then ran inside as he took off. My wife at the time was in the kitchen and had to play catchup, the police came, an ambulance, the whole nine.

These seconds of violence then got the special opportunity to affect every area of my life starting with the fact that when I wash my car, I take my wallet out of my pocket and put it in the center console. So, the carjacker got my wallet and checkbook. And, it was all heavily utilized that first night. Yup, even before I was done with the police and had the chance to start calling credit card companies, my cards had been used. Ironically, they were easy to fix though - it was the bank situation that became a cluster. Washington Mutual doesn't employ the smartest people in the world - this is not just a flippant opinion, I've been a customer since 1994 and I assure you this is quite true based on many different experiences. In this particular case, they mishandled my account in brutal fashion insisting that my account had to remain open until the checks came in, then closing my account and creating new accounts, then requiring me to get signed affidavits and delivering them to a city over 30 minutes away, blah blah blah blah... it was brutal. I had no less than 15 phone conversations, told my story many times, had my money disappearing that I had to make an effort to get back. The Credit Card companies seemed like they were on my side. Washington Mutual treated me like everything was my fault until I jumped through hoops to prove otherwise on every single transaction.

Now, the attack occurred on Saturday. Sunday, I got a call from a detective requesting that I come in to do a line-up as an arrest had been made. I had visions of a bunch of people on a cement wall turning side to side while I shuddered and pointed at the perp and told the team of people "That's him" in a certain cold voice. Nope. I struggled to find the small desk of the detective assigned to my case and was handed a bunch of polaroids to thumb through. LOL. Who knew? Now, I had many emotions on my way to the station - worry about what the "right thing to do" was on the whole deal, definitely had some fear that I wouldn't be able to pick this guy out of a lineup - I mean, I had just seconds with him when I wasn't really looking directly at him for most of it. I really wasn't sure. But, when his photo came up in my hand? I knew. Instantly. Without a doubt. Zero doubt whatsoever.

Now, fast forward (there's more but I'll just leave a gap there) about a year and a half, and things finally go to trial. Charles Fisher is still locked away. I'm called to testify (they told me that because of my testimony, I was to stay out of the room during the trial so as not to taint it) and got a pretty big shock. It turns out that his defense was that I was buying drugs from him - everyone knows that the car wash I was at is a known drug buying/selling spot. The idea was that I tried to steal from him and he stabbed at me and pushed me out of the car in self defense. Yeah, right. This guys parents testified and said how he's a good boy or whatever. But, it turned out that he had a very long rap sheet, although this was the first time he'd been caught in violent crime. The jury saw through him, though, and believed my truth (I think it's pretty obvious when real truth stares you in the eye) and found him guilty. Because of his past, and the fact that it was a federal offense, he was given 20 years in a federal penitentary. Also, due to his priors, he is not eligible for parole for 10 years. That would be 2010.

So, I learned that my car was pulled over in the middle of the night less than 12 hours from the time I was carjacked. It was spotted by an undercover cop and they followed it, and called in uniformed officers to come check it out. A woman was driving and she insisted, when they pulled her over, that she didn't steal the car. They were then led to a hotel where the carjacker was supposedly staying. Interestingly enough, when the cops knocked on the hotel room and asked for ID, the guy actually showed them MY ID! He looks nothing like me! Anyway, I got my car out of impound and was shocked at the mess - they hadn't torn anything up, but it was littered with cigarettes and trash.

I'm not sure what my point is other than to share - I don't know that I'm angling this into any direction with knowledge that I want to impart, but I know it affected my life a great deal. For a few years, I had trouble sleeping. I saw criminals in every shadow, and I always locked my car doors. I'd wait before getting out of the car checking around to see if anyone was close to my doors. I'm still more cautious than I used to be, but I at least lead a normal life now, but it still amazes me how an act by another person that only lasted seconds in my own life changed it exponentially. The fear, the money, the security, the physical violence, and pure time (a ton of time spent "cleaning up" for this one act)... Huge. I'll never understand why he did it, even if he tried to explain. I do know that he struggled with drug addictions, but he looked like a fairly "normal" person as did his family - what went wrong? I'll never know. Don't really care, either. I hope he gets better - I hope he finds help. But, the day I walked into the court room was not about revenge. In fact, I had considered not testifying because I was forgiving him (forgiving and dealing with the aftereffects are very different things, I assure you), but what ultimately drove me to the court room was that I didn't want him doing the same thing to someone else. Or worse (he'd been escalating in his criminal actions - perhaps next time he would murder?). I wasn't pressing charges, incidentally, the DA was - I was just a witness. I technically was served papers ordering me to appear at court. That was also an odd experience. I wonder if he's mellowing out behind bars, or getting worse. I wonder if he'll look for me when he gets out, or if he'll put his life back together.

A ton of time is behind this quick blog - it'd be impossible to fully express everything - just recognize that it was the "gift that kept giving". Just that I'm writing about it now, just over 7 years past the day (12/9/00) I was attacked is pretty indicitive of what 15 seconds can do to a person.

Blog by Matthew Tait Lifto