I was walking home from Eastlawn Elementary School in Midland, maybe in the 5th grade, when a man pulled up to the curb beside me and offered me a ride. I knew he was up-to-no-good. Of course I said, “No.” He continued to follow me. I was scared. I told him I’d tell my mother, but he said, he wasn’t worried. My mom was far away and he was right. I was more than a mile from home.

He continued to try to lure me. I kept walking straight ahead. A house at the corner of Eastlawn and Virginia Streets was a welcome sight. I didn’t know who lived there, but I felt that my chances were better there than with the man trying to pick me up. Determinedly I turned toward the man and said, “I’m home now. I’m going to tell my mom you were following me.”

I firmly walked directly into the house of the stranger without hesitating (because I felt if I knocked or even paused, he’d be there, waiting for me to continue walking home). I’ll never forget the look on the face of the lady of the house. She was ironing. Needless to say she was surprised. (I burst into tears.) When I told her what had happened, she was comforting and sympathetic. She suggested that I call my parents. My dad came after me.

I am still proud of how I handled “stranger danger.”

Using Streets and Trips (a computer program), I just tracked the distance I was “followed” on a map. It was about 1/3 of a mile. That’s a long way for a scared young girl to keep her cool. But I did it.

I hope your grandchildren would do the same.