The long walk home

When I was about 16yrs old I spent the night at this classmates house. I didn't really know her very well, but she was in my class at Aquinas High School. I figured, what the heck, I didn't want to be at home anyway. She really didn't have a lot of friends, but neither did I. She had a car, and that meant we could drive around. She had to be home by midnight. When we got home her mom wasn't there yet. She had gone on a date. Her parents were divorced and she and her mother lived in an apartment in North Augusta,SC. They lived about a mile or two from the 13th Street Bridge, and we lived across the bridge on Greene St about a block from Sacred Heart Church. Anyway,this girl's mother came home about 1am, and she was as high as a kite! The moment she walked through the door she began ranting and raving, cursing and carrying on like a mad woman. Now, I had seen drunk women before but not crazy-mad drunk women. She began chasing me and my friend around the house, screaming she was going to kill us. The woman had on very high heel shoes. She took them off and proceeded to try to use them to beat my friend. We ran from room to room trying to get away from this woman. My friend made a bee line for the front door and took off in her car. Her mother then turned to me, and said she had a gun and was going to shoot me. I ran like the devil out of the apartment and didn't look back.
So, there I was in North Augusta at 2am. What was I going to do? Who could I get to help me? How was I going to get home? There was nothing to do but walk.
It was very dark, and I was terrified! I didn't know if the lady would try to come after me or if some pervert would attack me. I started crying and praying. I walked down West Ave to Bueno Vista. I turned right onto the main street and headed toward the bridge. I really got scared when I began crossing the bridge because there was no where to run if someone came after me, and I knew I had to pass all the bars and wino's on the Georgia side of the bridge. In 1963 that part of town was a haven for drunks and pimps. The closer I got to the end of the bridge the more I prayed.
I was half way across the bridge when I heard a car coming. Up until that time I had not seen one car. The closer the car got to me the more I prayed. I was almost hysterical. All of a sudden the guys in the car started whooping and hollering, "hey,baby, where you going?" It sounded like a car load of men. "Oh, God, please help me. Please don't let them stop." Here I was on a bridge at two o'clock in the morning stuck between a car load of guys and street load of drunks and pimps. From the moment I ran out of my friends house I had been praying and praying that God would help me.
I did not want to turn around and look at the car. I figured if I didn't look at them they wouldn't notice me.I just walked faster and faster hoping they would pass on by. As they began to pass me the car came to screeching halt, and I heard one of the guys say, " That's my sister,Joanne!" I looked up and there was my brother Jerry with some of his friends. I literally fell apart. Jerry took me in his arms and sat me on his lap while I them what had happened.
It was just like God to send Jerry to rescue me.When we were growing up he was the one I always felt I could count on in a crisis.Even though he was only two years older than me, I felt he would take care of things if need be. Many times in our childhood Jerry took on the role of protector. At that moment I felt so much love for him, and was very grateful to God for protecting me. God is good!
I don't know what happened to my friend. She did not show up for school the following Monday. I never told anyone about what happened but I worried about that girl for a long time.I had often felt sorry for myself because of the trouble I had at home. I had it rough at home but not the nightmare she must have endured. It just goes to show you that someone always has it worse than you.