Amateur Night

As can happen to anyone from time to time, my car was broken into the other night. It is more of a headache than a real problem: calling my insurance, filling a police report, cleaning up glass, having my entire obliterated dash board replaced; simple things, but a real headache, nonetheless. But the greatest fanfare was the exciting CSI activity that followed for the kids’ entertainment and mine. Many people asked if I felt violated, this being the unpleasant post-crime feeling after shock and anger. But I don’t. I feel completely grossed out that someone’s blood is all over my car (which I didn’t realize until I took Tavi and Bea to the library the next day), but not violated.

A friend of mine noticed my broken car window and came to the door. It had probably been a good 12 hours after the incident, but I wasn’t going to catch the person anyway. I needed to meet Ivy’s school bus and figuring this situation would require the remainder of the day spent on the phone, I decided to collect my child before beginning the laborious task ahead of me. I told Ivy about the discovery and took the opportunity to discuss the role of the police in our community. Now, I come from an anarchist background and have suspicion verging on contempt for law enforcement, but for the sake of “the truth” we tell our children, I broached the subject cautiously. Some groundwork must be laid; conspired stories devoid of corruption must first be told to children before they can begin to see other truths for themselves. I didn’t think this was the time to get all Rodney King on her.

Ivy was really excited about police coming to our house. She wanted to know if I could request a policewoman. I thought about asking when I called, but was doubtful anyone would arrive at all and I didn’t want to hedge my bets. Before I left to meet Ivy’s bus, I found the appropriate number and made some initial calls. As soon as we came home and Ivy had an opportunity to see the broken glass and the disheveled scattering of worthless trinkets, we called the Portland Police Department. I was more amused than surprised that an actual police officer would be dispatched to my home. A previous car break-in, years ago resulted in a “sorry, not much can be done” over the phone report where I was issued a case number to provide my insurance.

Officer Chapin knocked on the door within the hour. The first thing he said to me was, “sorry I still have my shoes on.” We have a ‘Please Take Off your Shoes’ sign on the door. I was shocked that he even considered it – I can’t even get our closest friends to comply most of the time. And although I warned Ivy that even if it was the police officer, not to open the door while I was tending laundry in the basement. In her excitement, she forgot and I intercepted her turning the lock on the door welcoming the officer. I made him show Ivy his badge and he was absolutely eager to please.

Officer Chapin took my statement, handed out McGruff Jr. Officer badges to the girls and even carried Tavi out to the car to have a look. (I couldn’t vouch for the integrity of her diaper at that point, but he seemed unfazed – four kids of his own). Our noble civil servant took a look at the damage and said, “You know what, there’s a lot of evidence here. I’m going to call in our criminology department.” Say whaaaaat? The last time my car was broken into I was told I had no chance of reclaiming property because they never caught these guys and it was a useless battle. This man was telling me that not only could he send out some real life David Caruso, but also there was a chance the fingerprints could already be in the system. His optimism caught me off-guard.

And sure enough, the next cast member arrived precisely when Officer Chapin said I could expect him. Officer Cushman came to the door complete with black safari vest stuffed with various flashlights, swabs and plastic tubing as well as a big tackle box. I led him to the car where he preformed a spectacular show worthy of the next birthday entertainment hire. Officer Cushman collected DNA samples from the blood left on the abandoned crowbar in the front seat. Then, in his best Las Vegas showmanship, gave each of my three children a white card stock imprint of their fingerprints created with the same magnetic iron powder used for Wooly Willy’s follicly challenged form. By this time I was expecting trained monkeys to pop out of his box and a ride in the squad car – this was the service in “to serve and to protect”!

The kids had an exciting afternoon and were bursting with chatter to assault daddy’s ears as soon as he walked in the door a short time later. In the meantime, Officer Chapin called again to leave his personal cell phone number where I could reach him with the serial number from our stereo. I called him back with the information but still could not believe how nice and helpful these guys were. All I could think is, other than the fact both cops were also dads and the kid factor probably weighed heavily in the performance, that this grand gesture was in response to recent backlash from the treatment of some Portland citizens. If the PPD is trying to make a more positive impression on the public, they have me fooled. 

But the real irony of the situation is my stereo is actually still sitting in the van. The faceplate is gone, not much use, but my thief did not amass much profit from his night’s activity. And funnier yet, even though we have to have the dashboard replaced, it needed to be removed anyway for an extensive heating fan / coil replacement. So basically instead of paying for the expensive removal of the dashboard to replace this part, our insurance will pay that portion of the bill. And the karmic portion of this divine comedy? The thief stole two $25 girl cards to McMenanmins pubs – that had already been redeemed. I would pay good money for the front row of that “oh shit” moment when the bill arrives. So as big of a headache as this whole situation is, there are some small silver linings. And my faith in the PPD has been redeemed a little bit.

Epilogue
After the whole car break-in epic, the following night, my friends down the street (whose car was also broken into the same night, but suffered no accountable loss) encountered a young man who took off running when he was discovered in an empty house they are selling. My friend had to give a police report and the remainder of the evening passed with the whole neighborhood flanked by squad cars and police with searchlights, dogs and bullhorns. Quite an exciting evening – it will be interesting if this suspect is discovered to be the car stereo culprit.

Comments

[Unfit Mother]

CRAP! Sorry about the trailer Sal. But what is up with the new and improved PPD?

RM- I know, sad, huh? And s/he didn't even get anything of value. Yeah, get a proofreader why dontcha! =;?} And send them MY way when you're done. I like how another blog I read allows commentors to edit after they post. I need to look into that...

[Salvezaleenie]

Somebody, not too long ago, broke into my last pad. They ripped off a brand new crowbar from a nearby hardware store and proceeded to break into my neighbors house first. She has a VERY large, rotweiller dog. She has 'Beware of Dog' signs posted on both front and back doors. She has a large printed out poster of her dog on the door when you walk in. Long story short, it was a very hot day and the dog was in the basement when the break-in occured. I would have loved to have seen the look on the culprits face when the 120 lb. rot came barrelling up the stairs to chase their ass out the door. Needless to say, she didn't loose anything in the robbery attempt. On the other hand, they broke into my bedroom window, surpassed all my computer and camera equipment, and preceeded to steal my roommate's laptop and some cash before being scared off by my neighbor's return home (we think...). The PPD you spoke of were awesome. I, having the same faith in law enforcement as you, was shocked. Two weeks later we (my girlfriend Holly and I) had our $1,500.00 trailer jacked from right outside the house in broad daylight around 5 o'clock. The 5 year-old neighbor boy did the best he could to describe the asshole that rode off with our trailer (probably to be sold for scrap metal down the road).

Phew. There's a place in Hades for those jackals.
Peace. Salvez ooooout!

[radical mama]

I was NOT the person. NOT. God, I need to proofread.

[radical mama]

Bastard! I am so sorry that happened to you. We've had cars broken into several times (and that house broken into once... while were home...)

I am just grateful that I was the person desperate enough for a few bucks to risk 5 years in jail. That is a truly sad existance.

[Mama Tried]

Oh my! I can't believe I am just checking in now....Wow. I am really amazed at the police response as well. When my Suburu got broken into (or as I like to put it 'illegally entered') several times in Portland I got the blow-off which is why I took the stereo out and quit locking it. My favorite was when I thought that my car was stolen (I actually left it at the grocery store 2 blocks from my house and walked home---right by it---because I always walked to that store) the woman who took my car sounded completely bored and told me to wait a day and see if it turns up (which it did so maybe they are on to something). And it was SE Portland.

Hope the repairs go fast.