To the Editor: This will wake you up in light of Sexual Assault month in April.God has a way of allowing us to be in the right place at the right time.I was walking down a dimly lit street late one evening when I heard muffled screams coming from behind a clump of bushes. Alarmed, I slowed down to listen and panicked when I realized that what I was hearing were the unmistakable sounds of a struggle: heavy grunting, frantic scuffling and tearing of fabric. Only yards from where I stood, a woman was being attacked. Should I get involved?I was frightened for my own safety and cursed myself for having suddenly decided to take a new route home that night. What if I became another statistic?Shouldn’t I just run to the nearest phone and call the police?Although it seemed an eternity, the deliberations in my head had taken only seconds, but already the cries were growing weaker. I knew I had to act fast.How could I walk away for this?No, I finally resolved, I could not turn my back on the fate of this woman, even if it meant risking my own life. I am not a brave man, nor am I athletic. I don’t know where I found the moral courage and physical strength — but once I had finally resolved to help the girl, I became strangely transformed. I ran behind the bushes and pulled the assailant off the woman. Grappling, we fell to the ground, where we wrestled for a few minutes until the attacker jumped up and escaped.Panting hard, I scrambled upright and approached the girl, who was crouched behind a tree sobbing. In the darkness, I could barely see her outline, but I could certainly sense her trembling shock. Not wanting to frighten her further, I at first spoke to her from a distance.It’s OK," I said soothingly."The man ran away.You’re safe now."There was a long pause and then I heard the words, uttered in wonder, and amazement."Dad, is that you?"And then, from behind the tree, stepped my youngest daughter, Katherine. Raevette LoonanLuverneSW Crisis Center