Philadelphia PA Jan 12 2013 Alicia Carranco's 19-year tenure as a school- crossing guard came to a bloody end on Sept. 17, 2010.
That's the day a motorist, furious after Carranco scolded her for nearly hitting two students that Carranco was helping cross the street outside a Hunting Park elementary school, beat her so severely that medics rushed her to the hospital with her eyes swollen shut.
Her convicted attacker, Shaquana Outlaw, is scheduled to be sentenced Friday. But because crossing guards aren't a protected class of public servants the way police and firefighters are, Outlaw will likely get just probation for the beating.
That's not enough, says Carranco, 51, who still lives in fear because Outlaw lives in her neighborhood. Her fellow crossing guards agree and plan to pack the sentencing hearing.
"We want to show the judge that we are important, and people just can't come out and beat the crap out of us and get away with it," said Joan Gallagher, president of the crossing-guards union.
Although it's been more than two years since the attack, Carranco still sobs when she talks about it and says she suffers persistent headaches.
On the day of the attack, the school day had just ended at Alexander K. McClure School, 6th Street and Hunting Park Avenue, and Carranco was busy ushering students across the intersection.
After Outlaw, 22, screeched to a halt in her Ford Taurus, mere feet from "my girls," Carranco said, she leaped from her car, poked the hat off Carranco's head and "cussed me out like there was no tomorrow."
"I said: 'Please don't put your finger in my face,' and boom! the beating began," Carranco said, adding that she didn't fight back because "I'm supposed to be a professional; I cannot touch anybody."
With an audience of schoolchildren, Outlaw punched Carranco so hard and often that she couldn't see through the blood and swelling. As at least four witnesses called 9-1-1, a passerby intervened and pulled Outlaw off Carranco, and medics transported her to the hospital.
Although the bruises disappeared, the mental damage didn't. Carranco now sees a psychiatrist weekly, trying to tame the terror she endures with Outlaw on the street.
"There's a corner store nearby," Carranco said, "but if I need milk, I go over three miles out of here because I never know when I'm going to bump into her. It's horrible. I feel like she has destroyed my life completely."
Outlaw wrote her a letter of apology, but that only worsened Carranco's anxieties. "That letter is not apologizing to me. That letter is telling me: 'I know where you live,' " she said.
In Pennsylvania, attacking public employees - including cops, firefighters and teachers - while they are working automatically earns the attacker an aggravated-assault charge.
In 2011, a Pittsburgh lawmaker tried to add crossing guards and volunteer firefighters to the list. The bill passed unanimously in the House but stalled in the Senate. The sponsor, Rep. Dom Costa, D-Pittsburgh, plans to reintroduce it this year, a spokeswoman said.
The Philadelphia District Attorney's Office originally charged Outlaw with aggravated assault, which could have gotten her a 10-year prison sentence.
But Common Pleas Judge Sean F. Kennedy found her not guilty of that charge, convicting her just of simple assault and reckless endangerment. Although she faces up to four years in prison on those charges, she is likely to get just probation because she has no felony convictions, according to court records and sentencing guidelines.
"The commonwealth's position continues to be that crossing guards are a protected class" who deserve added protection, said Emily Rodriguez, the assistant district attorney who argued the case. Carranco is "the kind of person you want out protecting your children. But if we're not protecting her, what's the point of any of this?"
Peter C. Bowers, Outlaw's attorney, didn't return calls for comment.
Carranco no longer is a crossing guard. She lost her job after her bosses claimed she abandoned her corner.
But she said she never refused to work - she just refused to return to the street.
"It's not fair for the children," she said. "I'd be constantly looking around to see who's going to get me. I'm not a young girl anymore, and I'm not a fighter. I can't trust anybody."
Whatever happens with Outlaw, Carranco will be rooting for Costa's bill.
"I hope this law passes," she said, "so other crossing guards don't have to go through what I'm going through."
Source-philly.com
That's the day a motorist, furious after Carranco scolded her for nearly hitting two students that Carranco was helping cross the street outside a Hunting Park elementary school, beat her so severely that medics rushed her to the hospital with her eyes swollen shut.
Her convicted attacker, Shaquana Outlaw, is scheduled to be sentenced Friday. But because crossing guards aren't a protected class of public servants the way police and firefighters are, Outlaw will likely get just probation for the beating.
That's not enough, says Carranco, 51, who still lives in fear because Outlaw lives in her neighborhood. Her fellow crossing guards agree and plan to pack the sentencing hearing.
"We want to show the judge that we are important, and people just can't come out and beat the crap out of us and get away with it," said Joan Gallagher, president of the crossing-guards union.
Although it's been more than two years since the attack, Carranco still sobs when she talks about it and says she suffers persistent headaches.
On the day of the attack, the school day had just ended at Alexander K. McClure School, 6th Street and Hunting Park Avenue, and Carranco was busy ushering students across the intersection.
After Outlaw, 22, screeched to a halt in her Ford Taurus, mere feet from "my girls," Carranco said, she leaped from her car, poked the hat off Carranco's head and "cussed me out like there was no tomorrow."
"I said: 'Please don't put your finger in my face,' and boom! the beating began," Carranco said, adding that she didn't fight back because "I'm supposed to be a professional; I cannot touch anybody."
With an audience of schoolchildren, Outlaw punched Carranco so hard and often that she couldn't see through the blood and swelling. As at least four witnesses called 9-1-1, a passerby intervened and pulled Outlaw off Carranco, and medics transported her to the hospital.
Although the bruises disappeared, the mental damage didn't. Carranco now sees a psychiatrist weekly, trying to tame the terror she endures with Outlaw on the street.
"There's a corner store nearby," Carranco said, "but if I need milk, I go over three miles out of here because I never know when I'm going to bump into her. It's horrible. I feel like she has destroyed my life completely."
Outlaw wrote her a letter of apology, but that only worsened Carranco's anxieties. "That letter is not apologizing to me. That letter is telling me: 'I know where you live,' " she said.
In Pennsylvania, attacking public employees - including cops, firefighters and teachers - while they are working automatically earns the attacker an aggravated-assault charge.
In 2011, a Pittsburgh lawmaker tried to add crossing guards and volunteer firefighters to the list. The bill passed unanimously in the House but stalled in the Senate. The sponsor, Rep. Dom Costa, D-Pittsburgh, plans to reintroduce it this year, a spokeswoman said.
The Philadelphia District Attorney's Office originally charged Outlaw with aggravated assault, which could have gotten her a 10-year prison sentence.
But Common Pleas Judge Sean F. Kennedy found her not guilty of that charge, convicting her just of simple assault and reckless endangerment. Although she faces up to four years in prison on those charges, she is likely to get just probation because she has no felony convictions, according to court records and sentencing guidelines.
"The commonwealth's position continues to be that crossing guards are a protected class" who deserve added protection, said Emily Rodriguez, the assistant district attorney who argued the case. Carranco is "the kind of person you want out protecting your children. But if we're not protecting her, what's the point of any of this?"
Peter C. Bowers, Outlaw's attorney, didn't return calls for comment.
Carranco no longer is a crossing guard. She lost her job after her bosses claimed she abandoned her corner.
But she said she never refused to work - she just refused to return to the street.
"It's not fair for the children," she said. "I'd be constantly looking around to see who's going to get me. I'm not a young girl anymore, and I'm not a fighter. I can't trust anybody."
Whatever happens with Outlaw, Carranco will be rooting for Costa's bill.
"I hope this law passes," she said, "so other crossing guards don't have to go through what I'm going through."
Source-philly.com