I saw the note on the mirror in the vestibule of our building where our mailboxes are. It was probably left outside the building and someone from the building attached it with a Post-It to the mirror.

OSFO and I were on our way to school, rushing off as usual. I glanced at a few of the words and got the gist…

"This is one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done, but if I heard that another child was molested because I kept my mouth shut…"

I didn’t stop to read it because I was with 9-year-old OSFO and I knew it would be incredibly complicated and difficult explain and that she’d want to know EVERYTHING and I wasn’t quite prepared to do that — or to figure out what to say — quite so early in the morning.

It flew out of my mind until I saw a neighbor who lives across the street in the administration office at PS 321. I handed her a postcard about Louis and Capathia’s concert at The Old Stone House on Sunday night and we started talking about Smartmom. Then she whispered, "Did you see the note?"

Her biggest concern was how to talk to her daughter about it. That’s why she was waiting to talk to Kathy Sweeney, the guidance counselor at PS 321, to see if she had any advice.

The victim was 13 years old. Such a vulnerable age, an intense time. My thoughts are with her. Wondering, wondering. Do I know her face, is she someone we know by sight? How does she feel about this being spread around the neighborhood? How is she dealing with all this, is she okay?

Reading the letter again, very closely, I tried to analyze its use of language, its typos, its commas. Trying to piece this story together word by word. At this point, I have no way of proving the veracity of this. It was, afterall, just a note left on the mirror. I take it to be true. Do I really know what is going on here? No.

Later, one of my neighbors brought it up. She too was spooked by the whole thing. I think we’re all having a: "What? Not on my block!" kind of reaction. This is such a neighborly block, we all think we know each other so well. Of course we don’t. This is a big city even if it does feel like a small town.

And stuff like this happens everywhere – in small towns, in big cities, in Brooklyn all the time.

We on the north side of Third Street often joke that we don’t know anything about the south side of Third Street. And I guess that’s true. Nobody crosses the street to socialize, we say: It’s too wide a street. 

We have no idea who this man is. It just doesn’t ring a bell. Who is he? Is he someone we know, someone we would recognize?

If this can happen here it can happen anywhere. No one’s safe from this kind of thing. Once you know, it changes every thing a little bit. Lock your doors (even if he does have keys). Hold your children close. Keep them informed, not scared, but informed. Empower them.

Read the post: HOW TO TALK TO YOUR CHILD ABOUT CHILD ABUSE (ABOVE).