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Matters In Hand; Literally

All the greats seem taken too soon.  Growing up in Chicago, Pulitzer Prize winning Mike Royko was a household name during his 30 year career writing for the Chicago Sun Times and Chicago Tribune.  He and Bob Green were daily fare as we rode the train downtown with their unique, engaging, almost addictive writing style.  I have no idea how I missed this gem but ladies if you haven't taken self defense classes, never fear.  From one of my favorite writers - here goes; enjoy!

We’ve had the year of the woman and it is still going on, with females being elected to high office and named to the Cabinet posts, and the power of Hillary Rodham Clinton.

But what about Curtescine Lloyd? You never heard of her? Well, she is my choice as one of the most amazing and heroic women of recent years. Ms. Lloyd is a middle-aged nurse who lives with an elderly aunt in the rural hamlet of Edwards, Miss., near Jackson. This is her story, most of it taken from the court transcript.

One night, Ms. Lloyd was awakened by a sound. She thought it was her aunt going to the bathroom. Suddenly a man stepped into her bedroom. Terrified, she sat up. He shoved her back down and said: “Bitch, you better not turn on a light. You holler, you’re dead. You better not breathe loud.”

He declared his intentions, which were to rob her and to commit sexual assault. Of course, he phrased it far more luridly. He then took off most of his clothing and jumped into bed. Here is what happened next, according to court records:

Ms. Lloyd: “I got it. I grabbed it by my right hand. And when I grabbed it, I gave it a yank. And when I yanked it, I twisted all at the same time.”

(Need I explain what Ms. Lloyd meant by “it”? I think not.)

“He hit me with his right hand a hard blow beside the head, and when he hit me I grabbed hold of his scrotum with my left hand and I was twisting it the opposite way. He started to yell and we fell to the floor and he hit me a couple more licks, but they were light licks. He was weakening some then.”

With Ms. Lloyd still hanging on with both hands, squeezing and twisting the fellow’s pride and joy, they somehow struggled into the hallway. “He was trying to get out, and I’m hanging onto him; and he was throwing me from one side of the hall wall to the other. I was afraid if I let him go, he was going go kill me.

“So I was determined I was not going to turn it loose. So we were going down the hallway, falling from one side to the other, and we got into the living room and we both fell. He brought me down in front of the couch and he leaned back against the couch, pleading with me.

“I said, ‘Do you think I’m stupid enough to turn you loose and call the police?’ He said, ‘Well, what am I gonna do?’ I said, ‘You’re gonna get the hell out of my house.’ He said, ‘How can I get out of your house if you won’t let me go? How can I get out? I can’t get out.’ ”

Ms. Lloyd, still twisting and squeezing, dragged the lout to the front door, which had two locks, and told him to unbolt them. It was a difficult process because he kept collapsing to the floor and she kept hauling him back to his feet.

Ms. Lloyd, now confident that she had the upper hand (or should I say the lower hands?) and a full grasp of the situation, said: “When I turn you loose, I’m going to get my gun and I’m going to blow your (obscenity) brains out, you nasty stinking, low-down dirty piece of (obscenity), you. “And when I did that, I gave it a twist, and I turned him loose. And he took a couple of steps and fell off the steps and he jumped up and grabbed his private parts and made a couple of jumps across the back of my aunt’s car.

“And I ran into my aunt’s room, got her pistol from underneath the nightstand, ran back to the screen door and I fired two shots down the hill the way I saw him go. And then I ran back into the house and dialed 911.”

The police came and examined the man’s clothing. Inside the trousers was written the name Dwight Coverson. They found Coverson, 29, at home, in considerable pain and wondering if he could ever be a daddy.

A one-day jury trial was held. As Coverson’s court-appointed lawyer put it: “The jury was out 10 minutes. Long enough or two of them to go to the bathroom.”

And the judge gave him 25 years in prison.

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