My husband and I literally saved each others lives when we had a home invasion robbery, but the good news is the horrific experience brought us closer together. It happened after work when I got home 10 minutes before my husband, Peter Knecht who I share an office suite with on the Sunset Strip. He’s a successful Criminal Defense Attorney and I’m an AASECT Certified Sex Counselor. This was a cozy arrangement, being under the same roof, and besides, sex and crime always made for a winning combination.

It was almost 6 PM when my husband hit the garage door opener over the dash and pulled inside. Meanwhile I was upstairs in the bathroom primping to get ready for a romantic dinner.

Little did I know that my husband was fighting for his life and willing to die for me. His attackers tried to force his hands behind his back to restrain his wrists with cord-cuffs. He knew if he let them bind his wrists, he would be totally defenseless so he wouldn’t allow himself to give in, knowing that I was inside the house. The men didn’t wear masks, which meant they were not going to leave any witnesses behind. While they struggled with the cuffs, twisting his wrists, he had no doubt if they got into the house, they would torture and kill us both. This was the do or die moment and it was now or never. Summoning all of his strength, he jerked away from them and turned around, yelling,“You’re not going into the house, gentlemen.  It ends here!”

Immediately, one of them raised his gun to his head, and he winced, bracing for a bullet. But he didn’t fire, perhaps afraid the sound of a gunshot would give them away in such a quiet neighborhood. He said, “Now just walk your ass over there to the door!  We’re going in, motherfucker.”  As Peter’s survival reflex kicked in, he tried to grab the gun out of his hand and lunged at him.  While they scuffled, another man seized him from behind and forced him down to the cement floor.  He was on his knees now, with the two assailants behind him. One of the men grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head back and with the other hand, he slashed his throat from ear to ear.

Peter looked down and saw his white shirt was dark red, drenched from the neck down. Then they attacked him again and slashed him across the chest aiming for his heart.

Seeing the blood gushing out of him, they started to panic and gave up on the idea of getting into the house.  They were desperate to make a getaway because it was obvious to them that they had killed him.

Peter was lightheaded and weak from the loss of blood as he staggered up to the house where I had left the back door unlocked.

I was in utter terror when I saw him looking like some ghoulish apparition with blood gushing out of his neck. But I jumped into action and applied a towel to his neck as a tourniquet to try to stop the bleeding. I saw him fading and pleaded for him not to die.

With sirens announcing their arrival, the police came in just a few minutes before the paramedics. Police had already cordoned off the garage as a crime scene.  Helicopters were buzzing overhead, and several fire engines had come on the scene.

The paramedics would not allow me to accompany my husband in the ambulance, so I called my husband’s best friend, Bob Russo to drive me to the emergency room.

As my husband was being wheeled into surgery, I overheard one of the doctors saying he had lost so much blood that he was concerned there could be brain damage.  According to the medical report, he had a laceration ten inches long and two inches deep that had severed his external jugular. By some miracle, the blade had missed his Carotid artery. A fraction of an inch was the difference between life and death.

My husband is writing a book about his life called Blood and Justice on the Sunset Strip. You can read portions of it at http://peterknechtblog.com/about-blog/

I’m still learning life and love lessons; the most valuable is that through a major crises you can deepen your bond. I’ll share those steps with you in my next installment. I’ll also write about how the police considered me as a suspect and how this experience affected me emotionally as well as physically.

Do you have a lifesaving love lesson that you would like to share?