Published in The Frederick News-News Post Aug 8, 2007
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| Helga West overcame severe injuries from an assault and now runs marathons. Photo by Skip Lawrence |
In the early 1990s, she produced mostly cultural and entertainment programs for ZDF German Television, a U.S. news network for European viewers, based in Georgetown.
Days after the broadcast, West and her mother spent four days touring the Florida Keys in a rented white convertible, sailing Biscayne Bay and lounging at a Pompano Beach resort.
"The vacation was all that I imagined it could be," West said. "My mother and I connected, laughed and spent our days talking and enjoying life together."
After the trip, they drove toward Miami International Airport to return the car and fly home.
At 11 a.m. on Sept. 2, 1993, Miami bustled. Traffic crowded the streets and people strolled across sidewalks.
Everything seemed normal, but the crime report West produced kept her on edge. She locked the doors, shut the convertible top and stayed alert.
To calm her nerves, West slipped the "When Harry Met Sally" soundtrack into the car's CD player.
The pair circled the airport, but West couldn't find the car rental drop off. It didn't take long for West to realize she had driven too far.
As she turned down a side street to double back, track eight began to play -- Harry Connick Jr.'s "I Could Write a Book."
Midway through the U-turn, a blue pick-up truck blocked her way, then two men rushed out. The convertible's driver-side window exploded.
"If they asked me I could write a book,
About the way you walk and whisper and look."
While one of the men yanked the horn out of the steering column, the other started beating her. West screamed, pleaded for them to take the car and her purse.
"Shut up bitch, we're gonna kill you," one of them yelled as they continued beating her.
When Stanley Cornet, a career criminal, punched West in the face, her jaw unhinged. He bashed her head and chest, cracking her neck and knocking the wind from her lungs.
"I could write the preface on how we met,
So the world would never forget."
Searing heat shot through West's left arm as Cornet leaned into the car and bit her so hard it scraped the bone under her bicep. That allowed West to free her right hand and shove the shifter into drive.
The other man circled the front of the car as West slammed her foot on the gas, jerking the car into motion, bouncing him off the hood.
As the car sped away, Cornet hung on to the door. The needle on the speedometer climbed. Cornet's grip slipped from the door frame, then he tumbled to the street.
West held the accelerator to the floorboard through several red lights. When she found the airport entrance West squealed to a stop and called for help. By luck, she stopped the car yards from the airport police station.
Bits of glass peppered their clothes and hair. Wires jutted from the steering column where the horn had been. As West waited for paramedics, her mother sat wide-eyed, frozen with terror.
Ribbons of blood trailed from two ragged half-moon gouges in West's bicep. Blood and mucus streamed from her swelling face.
The trip was over.
It was Cornet's third strike. For his second, a police officer visiting his mother's house caught Cornet beating and biting the elderly woman three days after West's attack. He now serves a life sentence at South Bay Correctional Institution in Palm Beach County.
Recovery begins
As a 24-year-old, West often danced in night clubs, went to concerts and jogged on the weekends.
"I couldn't do those things anymore, and I didn't want to," she said. "The body I had after that assault was so totally different, I had to find a new place of normalcy."
For years, the last thing she felt before sleep was the first thing to wake her -- agonizing pain.
It spread from her jaw to her neck and through her spinal column. It reached every extremity, every move aggravated the pain.
Cornet beat her so brutally, two vertebra in her neck pinched her spinal cord. Doctors told West she was three millimeters away from being paralyzed below her neck. She'll never recover feeling in her face.
She couldn't chew for more than two years, endured months of hepatitis injections and years of HIV screening. Knowing she could have a deadly virus multiplying in her body ended her social life. It took two years to get a court-ordered warrant to test Cornet and discover he was HIV-negative.
West walked with a limp for about three years. Doctors discouraged her from running again.
"I was in such constant pain, it was a drag for my friends to be around me," West said. "After about eight weeks, a lot of my friends and family wanted me to just get over it."
But she couldn't. The violence changed the way West sees the world, how she experiences life.
Within nine months, she lost her job as a television producer. Over the following three years she drank to escape the pain, considered suicide and grew isolated.
"A big part of the healing process was not listening to everything my doctors told me I couldn't do, like running," she said. "There's a stubborn part of me that wouldn't accept that this is the way it's going to be for the rest of my life."
She started training six months before the 1997 Marine Corps Marathon in Washington. Two weeks before the run, West threw her hip out. She told her friends and family not to come: she wouldn't be running.
Oct. 26, 1997 was miserable. The rain made it feel colder than 45 degrees. West showed up for the marathon to see if she could run a few miles.
A 65-year-old man joined her along the way. He ran in memory of a buddy he lost during the Korean War. It was his first marathon, too.
Along the way, they joked and encouraged each other. More than five hours later, West crossed the finish line.
"It was a huge triumph," she said. "I still carry a photo in my wallet of us crossing the finish line together."
On May 23, 1999, West finished the Rock and Roll Marathon in San Diego in about four hours, 25 minutes.
In 2002, West and her husband moved to Frederick. Now, she runs several miles around Baker Park every morning. She'll join Team Heal Trauma, a charity running team of survivors of violence, Oct. 28 for the Marine Corps Marathon in Washington.
Together they'll raise awareness and money to help survivors of violence and trauma cope.
"I don't take positive changes lightly anymore," she said. "Now I view them as miracles that allow me to continue the work to help others heal."
Creating a resource
A hearing in 2001 that could have set Cornet free forced West to relive the attack. She obsessed over testifying so much that it led to her being fired from a public relations job.
When West and her husband Randy realized there was no national organization to help survivors cope with violence on a long-term basis, they started one.
"No one should have to go through this by themselves," she said. "We thought there had to be a national organization to provide support whenever a survivor needs it."
In 2002, the couple used their savings and double mortgaged their house to start Witness Justice, an organization to give long-term support to survivors of violence and help them navigate the criminal justice process.
Witness Justice is now one of the most sought after resources for survivors of violence and trauma in the United States.
They're both survivors. Randy experienced domestic violence as a child.
"We both found that together we were able to find a place of healing in a way that we hadn't found earlier in our lives," she said. "The work we do is also very cathartic."
Last month, Witness Justice launched a nationwide effort to find out how violent and traumatic experiences affect job retention. Those interested can take the survey until Sept. 14.
The organization's Internet-based survey asks participants 10 questions to measure the effects of violence on the workplace. Witness Justice will use the data to help workers and employers cope with the fallout of violence.
More than 200 have taken the survey, but West hopes to reach 1,000 by next month. Analysis of the results should take a few weeks.
She hopes the U.S. departments of justice and labor will partner with Witness Justice to help victims of crime and workers deal with violence.
"Human resources departments and employers alike need to be aware of the nature and impact of trauma on an individual," West said. "There are things they can do in the aftermath so they don't lose their talent, go through the termination process or have to find a new worker."
Many survivors of violence experience presenteeism -- having difficulty focusing at work. Employers might consider allowing such employees to work from home.
West hopes the survey will help her focus on human resource topics that will make it easier for employers to deal with survivors of violence.
"There is so much focus on criminal justice and apprehending the perpetrator that aspects of mental health, healing and employment become secondary," she said. "But for an employer, this is something that has a direct impact on the company."
West hopes the survey will help employers consider how violence can affect turnover, training budgets and loss of experience.
"As someone who went through this personally, if someone took the steps to care and consider my needs, they would definitely have my loyalty," West said. "We need to build an understanding and awareness so employees will have the greatest opportunity to maintain their jobs while they go through the healing process."
The 14th anniversary of West's attack is 25 days away. It's often a dark time for her.
"I think about how much that five minutes took away from my life," she said. "But I also try to stay focused on the things I've gained from that experience that have made my life much richer. And I'm thankful for the healing that has taken place."
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