On March 31, 1993 or 94, I had been volunteering for Oxfam and I was at an Indian Pow Wow meeting at the London Central Public Library. We were raising concerns about the rights of natives, but then I received a phone call from my sister saying that my parents were waiting to be picked up at the airport. We thought that we were supposed to pick up Mom and Dad on April Fool's Day. I quickly drove home, hopped in the station wagon, and zoomed onto the 401, but forgot to check the oil. The station wagon blew the engine somewhere near Drumbo road. I got out of the station wagon, raised the hood, I think I put on the emergency lights, and started walking down the road for help. Unfortunately, no one on the 401 would stop to help me. It was late at night. I first came upon a farm house, but there was only clanging, and dogs barking, so I proceeded down the road and came across a farmhouse bungalow with buddha's on the porch. The father of the family there, kindly let me use the phone to call my sister. I thanked the father, and walked back to the station wagon. I sat in the station wagon, but soon a small car pulled up behind me. I got out of the station wagon, and a sinister, slender, medium to tall height, man with long stringy hair stood in front of his car with his headlights on. I believe he was blocking the license plate. He yelled in a mad, hoarse voice, "Do you need any help!" I looked at him startled, but suddenly noticed a thick long sword shimmering between his legs. The light from the headlights was shining off the steel of the sword. Also, he was careful to keep his face in the darkness. I quickly said "NO" in a tremor, and locked myself in the station wagon and started praying to God. A few minutes later, whoever it was, drove away with the small car. I believe it was grey but I'm not 100% sure. I had been visiting one of my friend's Jack Stelpstra's homes for a prayer meeting, and two young men had visited the night before, and one of them appeared to have the same build and height as the man who scared me on the 401, but I can't be 100% sure. It was a scary moment. Had I a gun, I probably would have approached the individual, but it would have been illegal to possess a gun. I believe his name was Chad. Soon afterwards, my sisters arrived. They had first stopped at another broken down car filled with guys by accident. When my sisters arrived in the red mustang, I quickly screamed, "Hurry, the killer is coming." My sister quickly let me in the car and we drove off. When we arrived at the Airport, I mentioned my incident to an RCMP officer, who told me to report it to the police. The next day I phoned the police and a Detective Chaplin (he had a caricature of Charle Chaplin on his business card) came to my parents' home, for whom I filled out a report.