Episode #184: Monthly Mood - 1600 Miles Away
- keystonecoldcases
- Dec 26, 2025
- 2 min read
On September 10th, 2021, just after midnight, Key West police received an unusual 911 call—not from a local resident, but from a man in Boston watching a live feed. He believed he was witnessing a sexual assault. Other callers also reported a naked woman crying and screaming in the street. When officers located her, the story she told was shocking, chaotic, and infuriating.
A visiting tourist in Key West began her night with dinner and drinks on Duval Street. After arriving at a bar, her memory became patchy, raising concerns that she may have been drugged. She recalls leaving with a man, Jorge Calderon Nunez, but sensed something was wrong and asked to get out of the car. Instead, he dragged her into a wooded area on Fleming Street and assaulted her. During the attack, her phone accidentally began recording.
A second man, Calvin Gasag, approached and appeared to intervene, telling Jorge to stop. The woman believed Calvin was helping her, but after getting her into his car under the guise of taking her back to her hotel, he asked her for sex. When she refused and tried to escape, he became defensive. She eventually fled his vehicle, and moments later, a nearby live webcam captured part of the aftermath—providing critical evidence for investigators.
Lyrics to The Crime by Taylor Bickett, a sexual assault survivor
I think about you when I'm trying to sleep
Who did what to you to then do that to me?
I find a glimpse of you on every street
In every white sedan, in every man I see
I watch you floating in my free drink
You're the loose thread of a "no strings" situation
A midnight altercation
I hear you echo in a "why not"
In a frat house with the lights off
In a basement
A game I wasn't playing
But still lost
The crime of being alive
The crime of catching your eye
Not being meek and polite
And smiling back at you
The crime of walking alone
Half a block from home
My scarlet letter, your stones
The pointless blood they drew
A split second of judgment
And I'm still being punished
The crime of being a woman
The color's gone but I still have the bruise
Still peeling parts of me from the sole of your shoe
I can't make sense of it, were you born with wickedness
Or was it taught to you?
My sin was that you couldn't own me
Threw a tantrum like you're owed me
Like I'm worthless
Like I'm fashioned out of your rib
Did I pay for evils of another?
For the harsh words of your mother?
In your verdict, what'd I do to deserve this?
I'm still lost
The crime of being alive
The crime of catching your eye
Not being meek and polite
And smiling back at you
The crime of walking alone
Half a block from home
My scarlet letter, your stones
The pointless blood they drew
A split second of judgment
And I'm still being punished
The crime of being a woman
It sits like a rock in my stomach
The crime that's never unpunished
The crime of being a woman
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