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The Remarkable Survival of Lisa McVey: Outsmarting a Serial Killer

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left side blurry hooded woman with long hair in dark setting; right side clear mugshot-style portrait of the man with mustache and collared shirt.

In the early 1980s, fear of a serial killer terrorized the Tampa Bay region as someone was attacking women, killing at least ten of them, and raping over 50.

In the midst of this nightmare, 17-year-old Lisa McVey emerged as an unlikely hero who helped to bring the monster down.

On Nov. 3, 1984, McVey was slogging through a tough life of abuse at home. On that day, feeling overloaded, she wrote a suicide note, considering ending the agony.

She didn’t know it then, but her spirit was about to be put through the kind of trials only horrors can devise.

Pedaling home from her job at a donut shop that evening, McVey was suddenly pulled from her bike by 31-year-old Bobby Joe Long, a serial rapist and killer.

She was blindfolded and marched at gunpoint to his apartment, thrown onto a bed, and raped and tortured for 26 hours.

Long, responsible for the deaths of several women, appeared to want to add McVey to his list of victims. But McVey, who used all her cunning, wouldn’t just roll over.

During her ordeal, McVey used cunning ploys to stay alive. In Long’s bathroom, she intentionally left behind fingerprints on surfaces in the hopes they would be evidence if she didn’t leave alive.

Slipping back into the voice, she became a character in her own crime: Saying she was the only caregiver for her sick father and that he had no idea where she was and whom she was with, then offering to become his “secret girlfriend.”

And as Sheriff Howard Sills confronted Mr. Dubose outside the car caked with mud, Ms. Rowe could be heard telling him not to kill himself. This was breaking Long’s will, and he confessed that he couldn’t keep her forever he let her sleep.

At about 3:30 a.m. on November 5, Long again blindfolded McVey and transported her to a remote forested area. Thinking her time had come, she screwed up, but he only let her go, telling her to wait five minutes before pulling off the blindfold so he could get away.

Mr. McVey had committed to memory essential facts, his apartment’s configuration, the make of his car (a red Dodge Magnum with part of “Magnum” worn off), the way they had gone out, and even the number of steps to his door. These observations would prove invaluable.

Coming home, McVey was further traumatized; her grandmother’s boyfriend struck her and questioned her account. Undeterred, she contacted the police.

Skeptical of her story at first, authorities soon determined that it lined up with unsolved cases. Based on her descriptions, police staked out Long and arrested him on Nov. 16, 1984.

McVey’s evidence wrapped him with several murders, resulting in charges that include eight counts of first-degree murder, kidnapping, and sexual battery.

Long pleaded guilty in 1985 and received life sentences and the death penalty. He was executed on May 23, 2019, with McVey in attendance at last finding closure from decades of torment.

McVey’s story is about more than just survival – it’s truly one of empowerment. Scarred but unbroken, she decided to put her experience to use in a career in law enforcement.

She was a deputy who worked sex crimes and child protection for the Hillsborough County Sheriff’s Office after joining in 2004, emerging as a motivational speaker educating youth about safety and resilience.

At 58 today, McVey is now an advocate for victims and says recovery is a “lifetime journey of healing.” Her promise never to be the victim but rather the voice for the voiceless motivates many.

In a world that can be so shaped by trauma, McVey’s story is a powerful reminder of the importance of strength and determination, quick wit in moments of horror and pain, into purpose.

Not only did what she did save her life, but also countless others in stopping the rampage of a killer. As she contemplates, growth comes from negatives, how you treat yourself better, and having the wisdom to protect the vulnerable in the criminal justice system.