Thursday, October 4, 2012


So, I am on the wrong side of the road, getting the mail from the box without getting out of my car.  How lazy is that?  I have my Prius all the way off the road, but I'm facing the wrong way.  I never feel quite right about that.  There are no cars in sight when I pull out into the wrong lane and head toward my driveway.  Suddenly, a police car appears in front of me, speeding toward me on my side of the road.  Where did that come from?  I throw my foot onto the accelerator and dive into my driveway to get out of the way.  Am I going to get a ticket?

I park the car and prop open my door, hoping it will look as if I've been sitting here for a bit.  The siren passes and our local coyotes sing a response.  They do that.  I try to slow my breathing and listen. 

Then, suddenly, there were two other sirens loud, then silent, then a deep thud and a crunch.  I hear someone yelling.   I can't tell what they're saying.  I walk quickly down my driveway punching 9-1-1 into my phone as I go.  Curiosity killed the cat.  I get that, but I want to see past my trees.  I should probably be calling from inside my house instead.

"Get down!  Face down in the dirt!" I heard an officer yelling.  Who, me?  I don't comply, but I am about to.  Anyone in his right mind will comply to a voice like this. 

They have guns!  Yes, three officers have their guns aimed at a central spot on the other side of the road.  Was I even safe standing where I was?    At this point, there are three police cars all awry in the road.  They are positioned so that it looks like they cornered this guy with more than one police car and he drove off the road.  Can you believe that I was nearly involved in that?  I snap a couple of pictures of the cops with guns, but I know details will never show up because I'm too far away and unwilling to move closer.   I actually have a photo of the police aiming guns at someone!  It's a crappy photo.   I shuffle up to the house and lock myself in because it seems like the prudent thing to do.  I generally keep the doors locked when I'm at home anyway.  I call Mike on the phone and move from window to window to see which gives me the best view.  He tells me I need to meet the bus.  The bus!  Cops!  Guns!  Perpetrators! 

Five minutes before it's time, I walk back down to the driveway to meet the bus.  I want to shuttle the boys quickly into the house.  Can you believe that the bus driver let them off in the middle of all that?  To their credit, the police officers have things pretty well under control within the past twenty minutes.  I take pictures of at least twelve police cars and I can tell by the sound that a fire truck is on its way.  I get to tell the story to the boys while shuffling them into the house for safety.  This part is fun.  I imitate the officer's voice telling the perp to 'get down on the ground' in full volume since the windows are closed up and no one else will be able to hear us. 

The boys take turns standing on a foot stool to look out our kitchen window to see what's going on.  Five or six officers stand in a clump, shaking hands with each other.  There are two cars in the ditch on the far side of the road.  The boys talk about whether one of them is blue or green.  They don't like when I call it teal.  Some officers are wading through the brush, searching for something.  Traffic is stopped in both directions.  I get a sudden feeling of elation.  We are safe.

I want to bring coffee out to the police officers.  I really do.  Coffee, sandwiches, donuts, anything to say thank you for getting the scum away from my house safely. 

I post my pictures to Facebook.  One of my Facebook friends replies that her husband went through and heard it was someone who stole a car.  You've gotta love the Sheriff's department.

Thank you for listening, jb

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