Mysterious Man Angel Story

J. Frisch tells us his angel story of visitation...

This experience happened to me back when I was in my mid-twenties, in the mid-seventies. At the time I was working for a finance company. My boss needed me to go downtown to the Federal Courthouse to file some legal documents. This took place in my hometown of Philadelphia. For anyone familiar with the area, I was around 6th and Market streets. Parking is very bad around the courthouse and I was forced to park a couple of blocks away. As I started to walk to the courthouse I had to go down a small side street. The street was narrow and one-way to any traffic. This was an old dilapidated area with old buildings and storefronts. The storefronts had recessed entryways, so you could not see into them until you actually passed them. I should also mention all the storefronts were closed (no occupants). The other side of the street was an open field bordered by cement posts, and steel cable to keep cars out of the field.

It was a winter day, very cold and I was walking briskly down the street, not paying much attention to the alcoves of the storefronts. I was dressed nicely (suit and tie, camel hair overcoat) and carrying a brief case. I guess I looked like I had money, though truth is, I did not. As I passed by one storefront, I suddenly was attacked by three guys. They beat me pretty good and were demanding my money. I was hit over the head, punched in the stomach, and kneed in the groin. Needless to say I was bloody, hurting, and scared. They took my wallet and got mad, because I only had about ten dollars. Then they figured maybe my briefcase had something of value in it and tried to open it, but I had it locked. Demanding the key, they hit me until I gave them my keys. After finding nothing but papers in the case, one got so mad he took his knife and told me I was going to die for making them work so hard and not get anything for it.

I was on the ground, bloody and scared, and thought this was it, my life was over. All of a sudden an old light blue Chevy pickup truck, white roof on the cab, the rest like a powder blue, screeched to a halt in front of us and a middle-aged man jumped out and began calling to my assailants to leave me alone. He was dressed in what I would describe as normal everyday clothes. The muggers took a step toward him and then, for some reason, broke and ran. I am just lying there breathing hard, blinking my eyes at him, and trying to understand what was happening to me. I thought maybe he was a cop or just a passerby who stopped to help. He walked over to me, bent down a bit, and gently said, "It's OK, John. Help is coming and your gonna' be just fine." How the heck did he know my name? He then got back into his truck, waved and smiled, then drove off. I got to my feet and looked down the street to see the truck and it was gone! Now remember, this was a very narrow one-way street. I was about halfway down the street and there was NO WAY this truck cold have made it to the end that quickly.

About the same time, a police car pulled down the street and the officer began first aid. He said an ambulance was also on the way. I asked how he knew I was hurt and he said they, "Got a call." The ambulance also said the same thing. Remember, this was the mid-seventies, no cell or car phones.

To this day I believe this was my guardian angel that came to my rescue and somehow alerted help.