By Katherine Beaty 

Editor’s note: This is the first in a series of articles by the author about human trafficking and the ways in which the parking industry can help combat it. 

I never expected to be writing about human trafficking. 

Like many professionals in the parking and mobility industry, my focus has always been on operations, implementation, customer experience, and safety. Human trafficking felt distant, something discussed in headlines or documentaries, or a Liam Neeson movie, not something connected to my daily work in and around parking facilities. 

That perception changed after a near-miss that forced me to see these environments in a different light. 

A routine workday that wasn’t routine at all 

I was traveling to Kansas City for a client implementation, something I’ve done countless times. After landing at Kansas City International Airport, I picked up my rental vehicle and began driving to an off-site parking operation to start work. 

As I exited the airport, I heard a loud pop. The vehicle began shaking, and it was immediately clear I had a flat tire. I was able to exit and safely pull into a nearby gas station. As a long-time AAA member, I called for roadside assistance and waited inside my locked vehicle. 

That’s when things began to feel wrong. 

A black Mercedes sedan pulled into the station. Two men were inside. One exited the vehicle, walked up to my rental car, and began taking photos of it. He then approached me, claiming he was “with the insurance company” and needed to document the vehicle. 

I hadn’t called my insurance company. The rental agency hadn’t dispatched anyone. And no insurance company responds in person to a flat tire at a gas station. 

Every instinct I had told me this was not normal. 

I asked him to stop, locked myself inside the vehicle, and watched him return to the Mercedes, where they were waiting nearby. 

Trusting instincts and asking for help 

I immediately called my husband, a retired law enforcement officer, and explained what was happening. His response was direct: Hang up and call 911. 

I did. 

The dispatcher transferred me to a police officer who stayed on the phone with me. He explained it would take approximately 10 to 15 minutes for an officer to arrive and asked how far away AAA was. According to the app, they were only minutes out. The officer stayed on the line with me. 

When the AAA technician arrived, I explained the situation. He acted quickly and professionally, immediately beginning the tire change. During that process, the same man approached the vehicle again, circling it and repeating that he was with an insurance company. The AAA technician continued working without engaging him. 

The police officer called back to check on me. I explained that the men were still present and that the AAA technician needed to move on to his next call. The officer asked if I felt safe enough to drive. The location I was heading to was less than half a mile away on the same exit. He stayed on the phone with me as I went. 

That’s when the Mercedes followed me. 

They parked down the road from where I stopped. 

At that point, the officer instructed me to return to the airport rental car facility immediately. 

When the threat became clear 

When I arrived at the rental car location, I was met by the rental car manager and multiple police officers. They asked questions and then searched my vehicle. 

They found a tracking device attached to it. 

Shortly after, the black Mercedes drove past the rental facility, clearly looking for me. Police escorted me to a different vehicle and off the airport property via a private route. An undercover female officer was placed in my original rental car. 

I was instructed to continue my day as normally as possible while law enforcement took it from there. 

I was shaken. I was scared. And I was acutely aware of how differently this could have ended. 

Why this changed how I see parking environments 

What unsettled me most was not just what happened, but where it happened. 

This wasn’t a dark alley or an abandoned structure. It occurred in transitional spaces we work in every day: airport exits, gas stations, and roadways leading to parking operations. Places where people are distracted, traveling alone, managing logistics, and are temporarily vulnerable. 

Parking environments are already places where people report fear. But fear alone doesn’t help us. Understanding does. 

After this experience, I began researching human trafficking through a professional lens. I quickly realized there is a wide gap between public perception and verified data, especially regarding parking facilities. Myths are common. Clear, industry-specific guidance is not. 

January is recognized by the U.S. government as National Human Trafficking Prevention Month, a time when industries, organizations, and communities are encouraged to move beyond headlines and toward informed action. 

For me, this timing is not symbolic. It’s practical. Awareness without understanding can create fear, but awareness grounded in facts can create prevention. As conversations increase this month, the parking and mobility industry has an opportunity to engage thoughtfully, grounded in evidence rather than assumptions. 

Why I’m writing this series

This series is not about creating panic or suggesting that parking garages are inherently dangerous. It is not about turning parking professionals into law enforcement. 

It is about responsibility and about using National Human Trafficking Prevention Month as a starting point for informed, industry-specific dialogue that lasts well beyond January. 

Parking and mobility professionals manage spaces that intersect with airports, hospitals, campuses, entertainment districts, and transit hubs. That intersection gives us visibility and with it, an obligation to be informed. 

My goal is to replace assumptions with facts, fear with awareness, and uncertainty with practical insight. 

What readers can expect

In the articles ahead, I will explore: 

• Common myths about human trafficking versus what data actually shows 

• Where trafficking most often occurs and where it does not 

• How parking environments realistically fit into trafficking patterns 

• What appropriate, responsible training looks like for parking professionals 

• How industry leadership can address this issue thoughtfully and effectively 

I’m writing this because I trusted my instincts and because I don’t want awareness in our industry to come only after something goes wrong. If National Human Trafficking Prevention Month is meant to do anything meaningful, it should push industries like ours to ask better questions and to lead with clarity, not fear. 

Katherine Beaty is the CEO and president of Beaty Solutions. She can be reached at [email protected].