True tale of a demon on the attack ( reposted)

I have to tell you this. (again)
It's part of my life, specifically May 1990 - Mother's day. Sunday.
My wife, Amy has just gone into the Safeway store on Ocean Avenue in San Francisco, a few blocks from where we lived for four years. We are moving and need some more boxes. I am in our car with the two boys, Oren and Jared, then 5 and three years old, waiting for her to come out. I am dressed in a shirt and tie, slacks, having just come from church. We lived in a very mixed neighborhood, some would call it poor.
I am sitting behind the wheel, at the curb, waiting when I hear a noise, noises from the crosswalk in front of me. A man is beating and jumping on another man who is down in the street. Reflexively I open the car door, and run to the fight, while many others stand and watch. I see an average size black man kicking the now unconscious man who is bleeding from his mouth and head.
I know he may be able to swing at me, but I also know I can not let him kill this other man. I stand directly in front of him, I can not say if I yell or just stand. He releases the mans head which he has been pounding against the pavement. He stands and we are eye to eye, I am looking at the blackest soul I have ever seen. I know this is a demon, murder is its name. I shout, with as much authority as I can, "Stop, in Jesus name!"


I could not call for help from another, I could not wait and see if the attack would stop, I could not do anything but what I did. I did not have time to look for a weapon that this man might have, nor did I take time to arm myself.

The man is dark skinned, short hair, a knit cap of several colors. He is less than two feet away and staring at me. His hands, which were beating the life out of his victim moments before are hanging at his side. I am relieved at this, having never been a fighter, but having been punched a time or two. Something has changed in the attacker, like a switch was turned off. I do not touch him, but point with my long arm, long finger and long stare toward the sidewalk, and command
"Now, Go sit down on the curb!" and then I looked down at the man on the asphalt. Mouth open, blood abundant, eyes closed. He lies like a discarded rag doll, arms and legs splayed around his unmoving body. I or someone near me, yells for 911 to be called.
Out of the Safeway a man comes, carrying a cake in a pink box, straight over to us. "I am an EMT, let me go get my bag".
He comes back and I am relieved of my duty toward the victim. An ambulance comes in a few minutes, and a police car maybe ten minutes later. I answer a few questions for the officers, give my name and numbers. The officers talk to ten or so witnesses from the sidewalk crowd. None of them is more amazed than me at what has just happened.
This, I think to myself, is the going away event; one that will remind me of why I moved my family from the city, to the mountains. To a place of quieter living, less crowding, more peaceful surroundings and perhaps more peaceful people.

Wednesday edition:
people are asking what happened to the bad guy. it is so politcally incorrect to refer to him by such a prejudicial label. Here is what happened he went to prison, 2 1/2 years.
The whole story is both sad and funny, tragic and telling. I will try to drag it out for as long as I can ( i need more readers folks!!)

The assailant: He heard what I said, he stopped. and then he went and SAT on the curb,
and was sitting there when the police arrived. he was arrested and interviewed by the police detective. Here is what she said when she talked to me later on the phone. (paraphrase)
Mr. Schmidt I need to get some information about this event. We asked this guy about the attack ( he did not know the victim or have a motive, except, perhaps he was gay of effeminate.)
Cop: Why did he stop beating the other man? "the preacher told me to stop in Jesus name"
Cop: Do you believe in Jesus? No I am a muslim.

then the officer asks me, Is that what happened? I told her yes, I did not recommend it, but in this case it worked. That I told him to stop in Jesus name, but that I was not a preacher, just a guy in a tie. I told her I would be available to testify if they needed me. Now ten or more people were witnesses and gave the police information at the scene, but at the arraignment there was me, the victim, who still had some severe damage to his head, and the Muslim man.

He plead guilty. I told the man next to me that God had some special reason for saving him that day. I hope he did something wondeful with the rest of his life.
I'll never forget that day, nor cease to thank God for His power and authority.
When I am getting whooped, I hope one of you is near by to stick up for me.