Three Flights of Stairs to Safety
1954, New York, New York
By Diane Leon (center, with hair bow)
Growing up in New York City, crime becomes a dark shadow that looms overhead. If you’re lucky you may never personally experience any fear or harm. In 1954, a rash of murders became a little too close for my tight-knit neighborhood on 53rd Street and Third Avenue. In the midst of old cold-water flats, I played on the street every day after school.
The events of that late spring still haunt me today. A fear would soon take over the whole city.
Mine was a neighborhood of tenements that faced out onto the Third Avenue El train. The large iron structure stood over everything. The back view of the apartments looked out onto backyards filled with junk. I lived in a walk-up that had no heat or hot water. When you entered the building it was dark and in the summer the smell of beer or urine made me hold my breath as I ran up the stairs. The bell system was always broken and there wasn’t anything we could do about it.
I skated around the block or played jump rope in front of the building. Sometimes I would run into the other building to ask for one of my friends, or yell up to the window. I felt safe because I knew everyone.
My mother and grandmother instilled how important it was I never go with a stranger, no matter what. My mother used to tell me, “Diane, even if someone picks you up at school and tells you your mother was in an accident, come with me, never, never go with anyone, but Nonnie.” I would look off in another direction and she would yell, “Diane, this is serious. Never trust anyone.”
This was important advice because on June 2, 1954, a 14-year-old girl was brutally raped and stabbed to death in the hallway of her apartment on 66th Street. Two months earlier another girl, 17 years old, had been found dead in her hallway knifed in the back on 65th Street.
The next day, on June 3, I began my day and looked for my friend, Joanne. She lived next door with her mother and two older sisters. After I yelled up to the window and got no answer, I decided to dash up three flights to see where she was.
I pushed my shoulder carefully against the heavy wooden door and ran up the three flights of stairs. The hallway was quiet and lonely. I took a giant step onto the third floor and walked toward the apartment door at the end of the long hallway. The low light bulb and creaky wooden floors in the hallway made it an eerie place.
As I stood at the door I began to knock. Then I waited in silence. No answer. As I was about to knock again a sudden feeling of fear overwhelmed me. I felt sick to my stomach and sensed I was in danger. The silence was filled with another presence.
Just as I was about to turn around and run back down the stairs, a hand gripped my shoulder. I did everything not to jump or scream and just turned my head to see who it was. It was one of the neighborhood boyfriends. I had seen him around for the past couple months. His dark eyes were like ice.
He said in a calm, low voice, “Hey, nobody home?”
I answered quickly, “Yeah, my friend Joanne, she was supposed to meet me.”
“Well, I guess she ain’t home. What are you goin’ to do?” He stepped closer to me.
Now sweat was pouring out of me and I could feel my face going red. I thought quickly not to let him think I was alone. I tried to smile and said, “Oh, it’s OK, I’ll come back later. My grandmother is waiting for me downstairs.”
He replied in the same calm voice, “I didn’t see anyone downstairs,” and came closer.
I couldn’t stand being alone with him any longer. I pushed past him and yelled as I was running down the stairs, “Well, that’s OK; I know she’s down there someplace.”
I could feel his footsteps right behind mine. Three flights never seemed so long. As I ran down the stairs, I kept praying someone would come out of their apartment; no one did. When I got out on the street I just raced into my apartment building.
When I got inside I cried. My grandmother calmed me as I told her the story. She told me to thank God it was just one of the boyfriends and not a stranger. I couldn’t get his face out of my mind and how afraid I felt in his presence. I thought about those other girls in the hallway and what happened to them.
Three days later, on June 6, the headlines of The Sunday, Daily News stated, “Book Fiend in Girl Attack, 3 Murders.” The face on the cover was the man I had seen in the hallway just the other day.
I felt sick. He lived on 55th Street and walked freely in the neighborhood for six months while he committed a total of three murders.
We also found out he dated my girlfriend’s sister next door. The events of that day in the hallway filled me with fear. Did he follow me in and then by luck decide not to harm me because I stopped at his girlfriend’s door? Or did my quick reaction to get away from him save me? All I know is I had a guardian angel watching me that day.
On Jan. 26, 1956, John Francis Roche was executed by electric chair. I felt relieved he was dead. After that experience I never went into any hallway alone. I became very street smart and realized how important my mother’s warning was never to trust anyone. I learned at age 8 how the world has never been safe for children, and how it was even more dangerous that day.
Diane Leon is a native New Yorker, artist and writer. She shares her enthusiam for art as an adjunct associate professor of arts at NYU. She has written articles for Art Calendar and Her Circle Ezine.
Posted by Elizabeth Armstrong Moore on Wednesday, February 7th, 2007 | Email This PostThis entry was posted on Wednesday, February 7th, 2007 at 12:04 am. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
21 Responses to “Three Flights of Stairs to Safety”
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February 7th, 2007 at 11:04 am
That is a scary story - you were a very brave 8 year old! Very well told though, I felt like I was in the hallway with you.
February 7th, 2007 at 11:05 am
I never knew you went through an experience like that. I always found you to be fearless and now i can readily understand why.
Instead of taking the coward’s way out, you chose to be a champion and live your life to the fullest taking great precautions BUT living.
February 7th, 2007 at 11:07 am
thank you so much for sending me the story. and thanks for sharing such
a traumatic experience. i’m sure the event in reality was extremely
scary, but i hope writing about it contains some relief. your writing is
so beautiful: i couldn’t stop reading the story, and thanks to your
articulation i could actually see the characters in my mind. and all i
wanted was to hug that little child, and promise her that this guardian
angel is always there for her.
so thanks again,
February 7th, 2007 at 12:20 pm
You were a very brave and smart little girl. You tell the story beautifully. I felt the pounding of your heart as you stood there, and as you ran away my feet moved along with yours . I hope writing about it will bring some closure.
February 7th, 2007 at 1:24 pm
After reading your story, I found myself taking the opportunity to fantasize all around the city; nostalgically re-exploring streets I’d walked so many times, now only in my thoughts.
Your experience is a frightning one which may at times bothered you even in later years.
But you´re still here, and still striving. And each day is a new beginning that gives you strength. And as long as that’s true, there’s always hope: for beauty, for art, for peace and happiness—which, in my book, is always in fashion.
Thank you for sharing.
February 7th, 2007 at 1:54 pm
Diane, Even though we\’ve shared a life long friendship I did not know about this terrifying experience. Your story is really powerful and makes captivating reading. I can feel the thumping of your little heart as you ran down the stairs to safety. What\’s more the cautionary message of the story still holds up today and serves as a warning to parents and kids alike.
February 7th, 2007 at 3:29 pm
Thank you for your kind remarks, Diane, I\’m just getting around to reading the other material on this page. I wrote The Golden Arches. I\’d say as a child perhaps you\’d developed an unconcsious street savvy that worked with an unseen guide, and though you were eight and I was thirty something, we were both very fortunate! I was right there with you in your story smelling the hallway and breathing your air. Exceptionally well written. Thank you.
February 7th, 2007 at 5:28 pm
what a fightening tale. I had someone follow me a grab me once. This story reminded me of that time and how I froze, parelized by fear. It is important to always follow instincts. Many children your age would have frozen and possibly been his # 4. You are lucky, blessed, well informed but most important you had the smarts and strength to listen to your instinctive inner voice.
February 8th, 2007 at 12:57 am
What a terrifying experience, and yet how much you\’ve made it into a positive in your life - thank you for sharing this.
February 8th, 2007 at 7:52 am
Diane,
Thank you for this story. It reminds us that we can never be too careful and how important it is for parents to warn their children about the dangers of strangers. In addition, in my view the boyfriend represents people who we know who can be warnful to us. Statics show that most crimes/rapes occur by people we know not strangers. Thank God you had the sense to ran down those stairs as quickly as you did. This is an excellent piece of writing. Please continue to write stories like this one.
February 8th, 2007 at 12:11 pm
Diane,
Thanks for sharing! Unfortunately, 51 years later little girls(and boys) are no safer today.
Be well and keep doing what you enjoy.
February 8th, 2007 at 12:12 pm
Dear Diane,
Thank you for sharing your terrifying experience. It is such a powerful and thought provoking story. It sent chills up and down my spine. You convey a very strong message from a very frightening experience.
February 8th, 2007 at 1:18 pm
Diane,
What a powerful tale, and so well told. You made my heart race! Your story makes me think of several things: violence acts have always happened (even the random, especially greusome kind); and how difficult it is to raise a child striking that balance between that child feeling safe most of the time and yet being wary and suspicious when warranted. You cannot teach someone to listen to her gut–you have been wise for a long time I see!
Love you! Thanks for sharing this with me. And that picture totally makes my day!
Susan
February 8th, 2007 at 10:51 pm
Diane, this is a really scary story. I can remember the el myself; when I was in high school, around 1951, I even had a friend who lived in a tenement right next to it in the 80s, but her building was kept much more carefully than the ones in your neighborhood. I never realized how grim life could really be under the el. How scared you must have been, and how relieved when the criminal was caught. You did exactly the right thing, in running the hell away from him!. Best, Piri
February 9th, 2007 at 4:09 pm
Diane,
Your story was immensely powerful. It truely conveyed the the terror you were grapping with. I must say that your writing style is very engaging and I am waiting to read many more of such pieces from you.
Best Regards,
Gaurav
February 11th, 2007 at 2:47 pm
Diane, Wonderfully written and a really intense experience. You were really brave in your reaction to such a terrifying experience. I’ve never really read such a personal account of growing up during the times of NY’s tenaments so it was really interesting and wonderfully written.
~Tanvi
February 15th, 2007 at 7:02 am
I know I’ve read a good story when my heart starts racing- and racing it did during this story. I’m struck by 2 things in this story- how well written it was and how gripping (and utterly shattering to an 8-year-old girl) the story was. Thank you for sharing. You’re a wonderful writer! And how different that part of Manhattan is today, filled with luxury condos and high-rise office buildings!
February 21st, 2007 at 10:48 am
What a scary situation to be put in! These types of horrible things are still going on today that many of us are scared to admit. This courageous story really make you aware of what can happen in this world and makes you greatful for the good people that you do have. Thanks Diane!
February 21st, 2007 at 12:29 pm
Thank you Ms. Leon!
Your story is an excellent portrayal of the lives of some children living in New York City then, and sadly now.
Everyone who sets foot on within territory of New York City should read this story, especially young impressionable children, as it would be a great way to reinforce the lessons your mom, and all mothers–attempting to teach their children the universal lesson of — not talking to, or going with strangers to remain safe in our ever growing dynamic global community
Well done Ms. Leon, well done!
Crystal S. Brown,
May 10th, 2007 at 8:12 am
Diane,
I was spellbound by your story–from the first line–you tell it so hypnotically that I can see how much it affected you. It was a brush with death. I’m so happy you listened to your instincts to protect yourself and run away. While it’s horrible the evil people do, it’s also amazing how we have coping skills even at a young age. Even if it seems like you weren\’t listening to your grandmother, in a sense you were listening, piece by piece, to what you were observing and that it all accumulated in that moment when you were faced with the boyfriend. I also love how you categorize these guys as the \”neighborhood boyfriends\” killers and non-killers alike–it so how a child thinks. What a picture of New York too! It\’s nostaglic but the same scenarios play out today just in different settings.
August 15th, 2008 at 12:26 pm
Your story had me on the edge of my seat! Not only is it a great read, but it really does reinforce what parents should be teaching their kids.