A heroic act took place in my neighborhood one day this summer. It was the middle of the day, and many people were at work. However, one woman was out for some exercise, or perhaps she was walking a dog.
A heroic act took place in my neighborhood one day this summer.
It was the middle of the day, and many people were at work.
However, one woman was out for some exercise, or perhaps she was walking a dog.
The important fact is she was outside, and she saw something unusual - a couple of guys she didn't recognize walking through the quiet neighborhood with a flat-screen television.
When they reached the parking lot of the nearby school, shuttered for summer break, they loaded the TV into an old car.
She thought that was strange. So strange, in fact, that she started taking pictures.
Using a cellphone camera, no doubt, she took pictures of both the strangers and their car. She got the license plate number.
Then she called the police.
When two homeowners reported burglaries later that day, her actions allowed officers to connect the dots.
Can you guess who one of those homeowners was?
The burglars didn't find a flat-screen TV in my house, but they did come across my husband's nice backpack. We guess they filled it with items they could exchange for quick cash - a netbook-style computer, a camera and most of our jewelry.
Then they scooted out the back door, leaving it open.
Hours later, when we arrived home, drawers were open and closets had been rifled. But there was no sign of forced entry.
The front door was unlocked.
I knew immediately whose fault that was.
Some mornings I walk before getting ready for work, and my habit was to leave the door unlocked for that short period. My intention always was to relock it when I returned.
Can you guess what I apparently didn't do that day?
Discovery of the crime that evening evoked several emotions - panic over the loss of security, anger, disgust and, most of all, sadness.
On the netbook, which lived on my kitchen table, were family photos I had neglected to store elsewhere. The jewelry had been accumulated over a lifetime, much of it with far more sentimental value than it would yield in a pawnshop.
A heroic act took place in my neighborhood one day this summer.
It was the middle of the day, and many people were at work.
However, one woman was out for some exercise, or perhaps she was walking a dog.
The important fact is she was outside, and she saw something unusual - a couple of guys she didn't recognize walking through the quiet neighborhood with a flat-screen television.
When they reached the parking lot of the nearby school, shuttered for summer break, they loaded the TV into an old car.
She thought that was strange. So strange, in fact, that she started taking pictures.
Using a cellphone camera, no doubt, she took pictures of both the strangers and their car. She got the license plate number.
Then she called the police.
When two homeowners reported burglaries later that day, her actions allowed officers to connect the dots.
Can you guess who one of those homeowners was?
The burglars didn't find a flat-screen TV in my house, but they did come across my husband's nice backpack. We guess they filled it with items they could exchange for quick cash - a netbook-style computer, a camera and most of our jewelry.
Then they scooted out the back door, leaving it open.
Hours later, when we arrived home, drawers were open and closets had been rifled. But there was no sign of forced entry.
The front door was unlocked.
I knew immediately whose fault that was.
Some mornings I walk before getting ready for work, and my habit was to leave the door unlocked for that short period. My intention always was to relock it when I returned.
Can you guess what I apparently didn't do that day?
Discovery of the crime that evening evoked several emotions - panic over the loss of security, anger, disgust and, most of all, sadness.
On the netbook, which lived on my kitchen table, were family photos I had neglected to store elsewhere. The jewelry had been accumulated over a lifetime, much of it with far more sentimental value than it would yield in a pawnshop.
The Charleston Police Department reacted quickly and kindly. They didn't lecture me when I told them how the burglars likely entered.
I wish they had. A scolding would have eased the pain.
Actually, they provided solace. Two days after the incident, I was informed of my neighbor's photos and the department's follow-up. A detective had located suspects and questioned them.
We're told arrests remain pending because related crimes are under investigation.
I don't cling to hope that our stuff will be returned, but I have salvaged some joy.
My sweet daughter started buying and loaning me jewelry right away, and she and her husband helped me select and set up a new laptop. My co-workers took up a collection and bought me a pretty necklace.
We had some insurance coverage, and the company has been sympathetic and easy to deal with.
I focused on changing habits - making sure that doors stay locked and that precious data on the computer is both secure and backed up.
There's something else. Going forward, I want to be like the heroine I have yet to meet in my neighborhood.
If I had seen those strangers carrying the TV that day, would I have bothered to stop and do what she did?
I can't be sure.
This experience illustrated the value of neighbors looking out for each other.
Since then I have been watching for opportunities, but I'm still waiting for my Nancy Drew moment.
So far I have returned a wandering dog to its owner and stopped my car in the middle of the street to rush to the aid of a large bird.
With magnificent wings expanded, it was standing by the side of the road in what looked like a stunned state. As I approached, it flew away. That was a relief. What would I have done with it?
When something looks wrong, there's usually something that can be done.
Even if it's just take a picture and make a call.
Friend is editor and publisher of the Daily Mail. She may be reached at 348-5124 or nan...@dailymail.com.
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