In talking with everyone over the past while, I have struck up many online friendships. I was lucky enough to begin talking with this woman who asked to remain anonymous (I will respect that request). We'll call her Ms. Smith. She has been telling me for a while about HER story, her experiences in Wichita during the mid 80's and yes, she DOES have a CHILLING story to tell. I have personally vetted her account as well as I can. I truly think she was a PROJECT, I do know she's NOT lying. She does NOT seek attention nor fame. She merely wants to tell her story. Here it is in her own words...For those of you who don't know what it was to live in Wichita back then, this is as close a representation in the first person as you'll get. The next words you read will be those of Ms. Smith:
..It was the summer of 1986.
My daughter was barely 9 months old. Being a single parent I was overwhelmed with loneliness and decided to quit my job and pack all our belongings and head back to the dear old homestead in Wichita. It was very important that my daughter know her family…her grandma, and grandpa and all her aunts and also her cousins.
No sooner had I arrived when my older sister and her husband and their little girl had to pack their things and move out of state. I was devastated. I was so close to my sister and she was the reason I had decided to move back. I was, needless to say, shocked and very sad. But I sucked it up, and right away found a fabulous job with quite the prestigious corporation in Wichita.
Another sister and her husband were so generous and had a small house they were willing to rent to me and my daughter…just west of Hydraulic. It was quite wonderful to find housing so soon…especially when the movers were not supposed to arrive with my things for another week and called me that day and announced their arrival. AND it was a perfect little house for us…two bedrooms a fenced back yard – great neighbors…Our new life!
So, we quickly settled in…I found a decent sitter and off to work I went…anxiously fearful of whether or not this move was the right decision. It didn’t take long to realize that finances were slim between rent, utilities bills and daycare. So I moved. Just up the street…to a red brick duplex…to the tune of $150.00 less a month for rent. Downsizing to a one bedroom. Oh well.
My daughter and I had the greatest neighbors. So very friendly and kind and considerate. We were all low income ( well poor actually), but the kindest human beings…hearts of gold. They watched over my little girl and I. I guess we all shared kind of a common bond…hard workers, lovers of life…everyone of my neighbors loved my little girl. We all watched out for each other – that’s just how the people of Wichita were (are) – a VERY caring community. It was the type of neighbor hood everyone was always doing something nice for each other. Little presents just for fun…cookies…home grown tomatoes…always always watching out for each other.
THEN, once again - I found yet another home for us. Always looking for a better deal…a little less money a month…I was so happy back then…even though things were, well, it was just really hard to make ends meet.
Anyways, I found another little duplex in Riverside (which is an area I had ALWAYS wanted to live in) and this place was $75.00 cheaper a month than what I was paying now…SO – Once again, I packed up all our stuff – making several several trips back and forth after work and on the weekends. I was so tired when I FINALLY knew I was making the last trip to the old place and my daughter and I could just finally relax that night and have fun, maybe watch a movie – instead of hauling and unpacking. I pulled in the driveway – it was winter and it had snowed the night before. My neighbor came running over. She was so upset. She was visiably shaken. She asked – “Honey are you going to stay here tonight or all you all done?” – I replied…no “I’m all finished, I just need to clean a little and get my vacuum cleaner..” --she was so upset – I asked her what? “Whats the matter?” – She said – “Come here, I want to show you something”.
In Wichita, most of the backyards are really long and they have alley’s running in between the backyards of the houses of the streets. My duplex was on a street that had an alley way. She walked me around the south side of my duplex..she said “wait – Look! Don’t step there – see! – “and she was pointing to tracks in the snow – big footprints – (a man’s more than likely.) I looked – and there in the snow were perfect prints – walking up to my living room and dining room windows – I mean RIGHT UP to the windows. We walked farther into the back yard and I could follow the prints…they started way back in the yard at the alley way – you could even see where the “person” had parked and jumped the fence and walked up under my daughters swingset then up to my bathroom window then over to my back door then to the dining room window beside the back door then around the side of the apt to the living room windows. My bathroom window was rectangular and high up and a cinder block had been placed underneath it so the “person” could stand on the block to see into the window. Then we both noticed my telephone line had been cut. THAT is when – well – lets just say the fear was so overwhelming that I couldn’t even cry. Tears don’t come when you are that afraid. You can barely even breathe. When you try to talk – you talk in jagged sentences.
I left that place and never looked back. I worried about my neighbor often.
THAT was how Wichita was back then – EVERYONE watching out for each other…EVERYONE.
I started thinking about all the times when I lived in that duplex that I would think I saw something at the window…you know – one of those “out of the corner of your eye thing” – at the time I always blew it off. Thought maybe I was just seeing my own reflection.
Well I realized – the hell I was.
NOW I REALLY REALIZE SO MUCH MORE
Maybe.
Riverside.
Riverside was quiet. Until the night I heard someone trying to get in my back door. I put my daughter in a closet and covered her with blankets shoes, dresses …I was panicked.
I crawled on my stomach to get to my phone. I called 911.
My phone line went dead.
I was screaming inside….over and over and over. My baby….
My baby…I crawled to the kitchen…if someone got in I didn’t want them to discover her…
I realize now whoever it was probably already knew about her….but you just don’t think right when you are scared for your life.
My little girl was whimpering.
I had no weapon.
I prayed.
The police came.
I was too frightened to open the door. I didn’t believe them.
They looked around.
Found the cut line.
Told me to move.
They told me to move and said good-bye.
I became a blithering terrified idiot.
I moved us again.
To a house right off 13th.
About six blocks from Vicky Wegerles.
In fact – right around the corner.
Not far at all.
Then Vicky was murdered.
But no one knew it was BTK – the filth of Wichita.
But I moved anyway.
Again.
Out of State.
And I haven’t looked back.
….Was it him? OR was I just another Wichita female resident living with the terror of a monster among us.
Was #83707 trolling and saw ME?
Did it graduate from trolling to stalking and he knew everywhere I moved trying to ditch him?
DID it just NOT HAPPEN for #83707 that night?
DID I even realize at the time that that was what I was doing?
I can’t even remember if BTK entered my mind by then - it was 20 years ago almost. I just didn’t connect the dots. I really never thought about it all till every thing came out at his sentencing.
Then the cold chill hit me.
Was he stalking me and discovered poor Vicky?
How many other women had these experiences and just never told anyone.
How many other women have secrets and close calls like this.
Was it just me.
Was it chance.
Was it coincidence?
Was it my imagination?
Was it some other perverted soul?
Was it #83707.
