One Time I Listened to My Sixth Sense

While reading the book that I mentioned in my previous post, I've been reflecting on times when I've been "been highly aware of the subtleties of my environment including the subtleties of people's body language, word choice and inflection." There was one time when this ability served me well.

In 1989 I moved to San Diego where I lived for several years. It was a great experience and broadened my horizons immeasurably. Within a year of moving there, I met a guy at a night club, Andrew DeSilva. Andrew was charming, intelligent and handsome. There was also something about him that I couldn't quite put my finger on...something that just caused my inner voice to make me approach with caution. Andrew and I went out a couple of times. He wanted to keep seeing me and called me a number of times but I let it go and didn't pursue him in any way. I never could articulate to myself why but I just felt it better that I not. I would see him around town once in a while and he seemed to run in a fast crowd, as did I, albeit different crowds. I ended up moving back to Texas and didn't think of Andrew DeSilva for several years.

In July of 1997 the news was seized with the story of a killer making his way across the country. I didn't recognized the name, Andrew Cunanan, but when I saw the picture that flashed on CNN, I had a very sick feeling. Cunanan was known to me as Andrew DeSilva, the same person that my inner voice had said stay away from 7 years earlier. He'd murdered four people in a cross-country journey during a three-month period. He then murdered Gianne Versace on July 15, 1997 on the steps of Versace's Miami Beach mansion and, eight days later on July 23, Cunanan committed suicide in the upstairs bedroom aboard a Miami houseboat apparently to avoid capture by the police.

One never knows where life will take you or whom you might encounter. I'm just reminded how fortunate I am to have good gut instincts.