Editor’s Note: Attack on Kent-Meridian student by partially nude man should be a wake-up call

It’s good news that an arrest has been made in the trail attack on a Kent-Meridian student.

It’s every parents’ nightmare that their child could be attacked while walking to school, out of reach for help, far from their parents and family.

Even worse is the threat of a sexual attack, which in this incident may have been the case. At the very least, the man was identified as not wearing pants. He also is alleged to have grabbed for the student in a manner that suggests the possibility.

But what’s especially horrible is the fact this wasn’t the first time people had seen someone on this trail, partially clothed. It’s absolutely dumbfounding that nobody thought to report this – a guy not wearing his pants – out along this trail.

This harkens back to something that’s driven me crazy since I’ve been in newspapers.

Nobody, it seems, is willing to step outside their comfort zone and make that call. It’s just too easy to notice something weird, shrug, and go on about your business.

That is so, so wrong.

That fact came home to me a number of years ago when I was walking by a railroad crossing in the city of Edmonds.

I noticed a small crowd had gathered, around what appeared to be a person on the ground near the tracks.

Coming up to the group, I saw that the person was a nicely dressed, middle-aged woman, and she was laying almost completely in the crossing, over the tracks. Her purse was lying next to her. Her eyes were open and she appeared alert.

At that moment, I didn’t know what the stranger thing was – this woman who for all intents looked like she was trying to take a nap on the tracks, or the group of people that had formed around her, not talking, just staring at her.

Not sure what to do, I walked up to her and knelt beside her. “Are you okay?” I asked.

After a pause, she simply looked at me, got up, picked up her purse and walked away.

A couple of minutes later, the train came through.

The blood ran cold through my veins.

I jumped in my car and went to every other crossing I could find, to locate her in case there was another train on the way.

I never saw her again.

To this day I’ve wondered about her, and what would have happened, had nobody in that group tried to help her. Would this have been another headline about a death attended by a group of passive onlookers? What bizarre group-think makes us believe we don’t have to help somebody because nobody else will?

I’ve read other stories, too: about abusers who have systematically gone about beating a child for months, while neighbors and other family members did nothing, except to tell police later that, oh boy, yeah, he sure did beat that kid. Never mind that the child wound up in a coma, or dead, from the abuse they did nothing about.

It’s that same mindset, I think, that ensured a partially clothed stalker in the bushes could go about his business for months, apparently. People had been seeing someone odd out there since late this summer. God knows what kind of harm their lack of action could have resulted in, had this K-M student not been able to escape her attacker.

If it hasn’t already, this incident should be a wake-up call.

A call to parents, to be talking regularly to their children about what they are seeing and doing, where they are going, and if they are going with friends and are accounted for.

A call to students, to tell an adult when there is something that’s not right, and to travel in groups for safety.

A call to school officials, to impose the message that students need to be aware of potential dangers when they’re out on their own. And to be a safe and confidential ear when a student does have something to report, but fears possible reprisals for taking the risk of reporting it.

Thanks to good police work, hopefully a dangerous person has been removed from a place where young people regularly walk. But all of us need to be part of the picture, to enable police to do their job. It’s not just up to them to ensure our safety.

Think of that the next time you’re worried about the whereabouts of your child, your friend or your sibling.

Wouldn’t you be thankful if someone had made that call?