NONFICTION | IT HAPPENED TO ME

When A Stranger Calls

Hazards of the job

I had just got home from work and was enjoying a relaxing evening, finishing up my dinner when the phone rang. I immediately got the feeling that it wasn’t going to be good news.

It was a good day at work so I was feeling pretty good. I was the news anchor at the local TV station in Red Deer, Alberta, Canada. It was a medium market station because our coverage was all of central Alberta, and I saw it as my step up to bigger and better things.

The job itself had some good things about it and some things I wasn’t happy about — like any job. It was very stressful with critical deadlines — you couldn’t be five minutes late for the 6 o‘clock news. The pay was awful at the start of my career, despite what most people think. And it could be very hard on your psyche. It was hard to shut off the details of that murder you covered earlier in the day.

I was young, still in my early twenties with big dreams and big goals for my career in broadcasting. It was an unusual career choice for someone who could best be described as a semi-introvert. I was shy and didn’t have a lot of confidence, but I liked to perform. I loved my leading roles in all of our high school plays. Getting in front of an audience of people was intimidating but I was able to focus on my lines and stay in character. I was reading someone else’s words so I wouldn’t be judged on my own.

Radio and TV were even better because there was no audience. Well, people were watching and listening. Thousands of them. But I couldn’t see them so it seemed more theoretical than real. There was a small group of people moving around in front of me, camera operators, floor directors, and cable pullers, but they were focused on their jobs and not so much on my performance.

The thing that I disliked the most about my job was the fact that I was a celebrity, albeit on a very small local scale. I hated the recognition when I was out in public.

At first, I was caught off guard when I would catch people looking at me, sometimes whispering. For someone who has always been shy and self-conscious, it gave me a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Eventually, I got more used to it, but I still found it very unsettling.

The worst were times when I would be out grocery shopping and I would see people actually looking in my shopping basket to see what I was buying. Yes, I buy toilet paper.

I tried to put it into perspective. I get it. I would occasionally get starstruck by people I was meeting and interviewing. But I was just a news anchor at a Central Alberta TV station, nothing special

And then the phone rang.

This was in the early 1980s so we still had the old-fashioned wired phones. They were connected to the wall so you had to go to the phone to answer it. That usually meant it rang a few times before someone picked up. I didn’t rush to the phone and picked it up after the fourth ring.

But my ‘hello’ was met with silence. Did the caller give up already and hang up? We didn’t have anything like call display in those days to let us know who was on the other end. I said ‘hello’ another couple of times before I decided to hang up. If it was someone I knew, they would call back.

Sure enough, seconds later the phone rang again. But again my ‘hello’ was met with silence. Although this time I could make out faint background noise, possibly from a tv. This was some kid or prankster. I hung up again. And luckily that worked.

The next day after work, I had just walked in the door to my apartment when my phone started ringing. I breathlessly answered the phone but there was no one on the other end. Just as I was about to let the caller have it, I heard a dial tone.

I was getting angry and wondered what this was all about and why they kept calling back. Was it the same person? Usually, pranksters made calls over a period of hours and not days. I whipped up a quick dinner because I wasn’t in the mood to be standing over the stove cooking after my long day at work. Just as I was about to dig in, the phone rang.

I jumped up, ready to let the caller have it. I opened with a curt ‘hello?’ This time someone spoke up. “Is this Darren?” The caller’s voice was soft and quiet and sounded feminine but I couldn’t be sure.

I responded, “who is this?”

And then HE spoke again saying the words that sent a shiver down my spine. Words I would never forget.

“I like to watch you.”

A lot of people watch me but I knew that was not what he meant. His voice was now a little louder, huskier, and definitely male. I wanted him to stop calling, but just before I spoke he said, “I liked the blue tie you were wearing today.”

And then quietly again, “I watch you when I’m naked.”

That snapped me out of my stunned stupor and I yelled into the phone, “Stop calling. I am calling the police.” And I slammed the phone down.

After the call disconnected I picked up the receiver and dialed my own number so it would ring busy for anyone calling me. It was a trick I had learned so that I could block my calls without getting a piercing alert over the phone line.

I don’t know why I didn’t call the police. I guess I didn’t think this was anything serious. But I still wondered if I should change my phone number. I hoped he didn’t have my address but if he had my phone number he likely had my address too. Should I move?

When I went to work the next day, I told some of my coworkers about my caller. My story was met with laughter. They thought it was a joke. I felt stupid for letting it bother me and even more stupid for bringing it up.

So I decided to just keep quiet.

As I prepared to go on the air, my scripts in front of me, the theme music started as the floor director waved her fingers at me and she gave me my countdown, 3–2–1!

What felt like minutes went by, was actually just seconds. I was like a deer caught in the headlights and I saw the look of concern wash over my floor director’s face. That’s when my subconscious kicked in and I started reading the words in front of me. I had trouble with my concentration as thoughts flashed through my mind — was he watching me? I got through the newscast, on cruise control.

When I was going home, I was nervously looking at everyone who passed by and if someone glanced my way, I wondered if they were my caller.

I couldn’t shake the incident. When I got home that evening. I was on pins and needles waiting for the phone to ring. Every sound had me jumping.

But the phone didn’t ring.

He didn’t call back the next night either. Or the next night. He never called back again. In time the incident faded to the back of my mind, but it was always there.

A few months later I landed a job in a bigger city, in radio. That seemed a little bit safer. But when you are on the radio, people listened to you while in their cars, in their homes, and even in the bathroom. As a result, they really think they know the announcers. They are even more familiar than TV viewers.

I eventually went back to television, but behind the scenes as a producer. I have offered advice and comfort to on-air anchors and reporters who have had to deal with stalkers and creepers. Fans who go overboard. And sometimes the police have had to get involved.

These people seem to think that because they see and hear your work, they know you. They think they have a right to call or harass you because you’re in the public eye. But they don’t know how traumatizing that can be. Or maybe they do. You never know if they are going to be innocuous or dangerous.

I was lucky. I got off easy.

Thank you for reading.