I Survived a Peeping Tom: How Safe Are We Now?
What’s the story with these guys? Are they harmless?
My sister, Michele, was 11, and I was 10. Our younger twin brother and sister were five.
Our parents went out for the evening and left Michele and me in charge of the little ones, who were asleep when Mom and Dad left.
My parents were less than a mile away at the Elks Lodge. Dad was the grand pooh-pah or whatever name they gave the chief of the tribe.
It was a dinner/dance — quite common in those days back in the ‘60s.
Michele and I were watching TV on this warm summer night. The windows were open, screens covering them, but the drapes parted to allow the cool evening breeze to enter.
I heard a scratching at the screen on the window behind me. Immediately, I knew it was our friend and neighbor, George. He loved to tease Michele and me and play tricks on us.
I told him to knock it off and just come in and watch TV with us. No response.
There was scratching at the window behind Michele. She turned but couldn’t see anyone.
This nonsense continued for the next half hour with knocks at the front door. No one was there. Knocks on the side door. No one.
