Dr. Ramsey

A week or so before my tenth birthday, I walked home from a store when a man I had never seen before fell into step beside me. He introduced himself as Dr. Ramsey and said he was a pediatrician. He asked whether my parents were looking for a doctor, asked my name, complimented my hair, and offered me candy. I ignored him and ran into the house.

Soon he began driving past nearly every day, smiling and waving. Then the phone calls started. My father asked me about the man and how he knew my name. We learned that he also knew my sister’s name. He called several times a day and eventually threatened to hurt me and my sister. My parents contacted the police, but they said there was little they could do unless he actually tried something. A family friend who was a police officer began escorting me to and from school, and I was no longer allowed to walk or play outside alone.

When access to us was denied, the threats escalated. One afternoon Dr. Ramsey came bolting out of our garage while my brothers chased him. He escaped through nearby trees. The police had only a description and a name that was almost certainly fake.

Soon afterward, we woke to find our dog hanging from the side porch. The police said there was no evidence that he was responsible and treated it as an accident, but none of us believed that explanation.

His phone calls revealed how closely he watched the house. He described who was home, who was away, a kitchen window he could open from outside, and the way the lock on the French doors could be manipulated. My father temporarily reinforced those doors with carpenter nails.

One evening, while my parents were away and several of us children were at home, the top of the French doors swung inward. For a moment I saw Dr. Ramsey’s silhouette before the nails forced the door shut. My sister and I got the youngest child and hid upstairs. Later we saw someone at the back door. When my sister asked what he wanted, he claimed to be delivering a pizza, even though he had no pizza. She told him she was calling the police, and he left.

After my brothers returned, we each carried a kitchen knife for protection. One brother went to the kitchen for food and felt someone watching him. He moved close to the glass in the door and saw Dr. Ramsey smiling on the other side. When he turned to call for help and looked back, the man had vanished.

The following evening, my brother said he felt that a loud pounding could happen at any moment. Almost immediately, there were three explosive knocks on the window behind him. By the time the older children ran outside, Dr. Ramsey was gone.

At school, I later saw the same car moving slowly past the playground. Dr. Ramsey smiled, waved, and called my name. I told my teacher, who took me inside. That same day, someone called the school pretending to be my father and claimed he was coming to pick me up. He was not.

One night I found my father sitting alone in the dark kitchen with a gun on the table. He was exhausted by the police refusing to act, by the threats, and by the fear that something would happen to his children while he was away. After I sat with him for a while, he sent me back to bed.

The harassment continued for many months and then stopped as suddenly as it had begun. The calls and drive-bys ended, and Dr. Ramsey disappeared from our lives. For a long time I had recurring nightmares about waking to find him standing over me.

I later learned that his calls had included threats to rape and kill me and my sister, along with claims that my parents could do nothing. I never learned what happened to him. I only know that the fear eventually stopped, although the memory of being watched never completely did.