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Posts Tagged ‘police’

This picture is “Waiting for Grandad.”  Left to right we have, EMT, JCountry and Gaffer.  Pardon my over-crowded house.

Four men in the house and anytime that we can get all four in one room, a game happens.  The latest “greatest” game is 1942, Axis and Allies.  The challenge is getting them all in one room.

The first thing that happened was EMT disappeared.  Literally, disappeared.  He left, on Friday night, to go help with Bingo at the fire department and never returned.  He told me he might just sleep at the department, but would be home in the morning. 

EMT has a bad habit of not letting us know what he is doing.  He is twenty, so it is hard to complain; however, I have repeatedly explained to him that it is a matter of courtesy to let the people you live with know when to expect you back.  Heck, it is even a matter of your own safety, as we have a relative who died when his car flipped over and he wasn’t found for three days.  The first two days he lived. 

So, the first day EMT was missing, I grumbled about him all day.  I left the outside light on until 3am and then swore and went to sleep.  The second day, I began to worry a bit.  Late that day we called his friends.  Why is it no one is ever home when you call them for something really important?  Late that day we drove around.  No one was at the fire department.  No one was at his friend’s house. 

At seventy-two hours, we went to the police and filed a report on him, missing, in our car.   He has had a problem with a couple of guys and we were concerned they had cornered him and beaten him to a pulp and left him in the woods.  We drove around staring between trees for our red van.   Our County is wooded.

Two hours later, when we arrived home from the police station and driving around, for the second time, Gaffer decided to make a library run for books, movies and high speed.  Twenty minutes later, Gaffer calls and lets us know that he is parked next to our Red Van at the library, and will call if his brother is in the library.

YUP!  That’s where we found EMT, after seventy-two hours.  During the time he was missing, he had gone camping, torn apart a car with a friend, and made money scrapping the parts, done Christmas shopping, and gone to the library.  He really does not understand why we were so upset.  In the meantime, my hair is grey!!!

EMT, anticipating leaving for the Army in January, where he will be the problem of the U.S. Government and they can figure out where he is, brought home the Harry Potter Clue game.  He gave it to the family for Christmas and wanted to get a lot of gaming in before he left.  He also figured it was maybe a game I would play.  He was right.

Playing games is akin to having a kidney infection, for me.  I am more a knit and giggle with daughter, while games are going on, preferably with a glass of Bailey’s in hand, kind of gal.  There are now three games I will willingly play: Cribbage, Dominoes and Harry Potter Clue. 

I should be cleaning my piles of projects out of the front room and baking pies or cookies for our Thanksgiving dinner, instead I am blogging and listening to Gaffer speak with a Russian accent as he rolls his dice to defend Russia from Germany.  The are figuratively spitting at each other, I am told.  JCountry is Germany.  Gaffer is Russia.  Granddad is back in from his disappearance to my studio and all is well with our world.

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I know I promised info on my Harry Potter visit today.  I am sooooo sorry to disappoint Xup.  I am sure she was really looking forward to reading about Harry Potter, but this is just too funny to wait. 

EMT, with his honor roll graduation, decided to get his motorcycle driver’s license.  His Big Brother, from the Big Brother program had an extra bike at his house and they wanted to ride together. 

This is EMT’s story and he has a dry way of telling stories and this is exactly how he told it to me.  That is, it is exactly how he told it to me AFTER he told me about the ride, and his Big Brother’s marital problems and all the little stuff of the day.  Then, it was, “Oh, and by the way…

They drove to the south side of Indianapolis.  It was time to gas up and return home.  EMT was returning from paying for the gas, mounted up and put the key in the ignition when a man stepped up to him with a knife and said, “Get Off!  I want your bike.”

EMT tells me at that point that he knew all he had to do was keep the guy talking and he would be fine.  I said, “I have always told you that no money or possession is worth messing with a guy with a knife or a gun.  Just get off and give him the bike.”

EMT said.  “I didn’t have to worry because there was a police car recording the incident and the cop, gun drawn, was two feet behind him.”

Just another day in the life of EMT.

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Another blog I am thoroughly enjoying is Wide Awake in Wonderland.

 

I would love to make that kind of trip across Europe; staying in hostels, eating non-gross exotic foods (is there such a thing?), seeing architecture of other countries, etc.  IF, I had someone who spoke many languages, I would just love to travel everywhere.

 

One thing I do have in common with Wonderland blogger is that I have had my own stalker.  Well, he was really my daughter’s stalker and, I hope to everything that keeps me safe, he is now in jail, prison, the mental ward or six feet under, or at the very least, not reading this blog.

 

We didn’t know that daughter of eleven had borrowed $300 from him; when she was only mother of three.  He just started calling up and she would wave me over to listen to the phone conversations. He would tell her exactly where she had been that day, about a wrong turn she made, where she stopped, etc.  It was downright creepy, scary.

 

At the time he drove some type of tanker truck with some noxious stuff in it so part of his threat was that he would drive it into our house.

 

We went to the police station, we called the police, they came out and time after time the cops would be like,

 

“Oh, all right.”  He said, feet resting on his desk. 

 

Then, the cop would amble off to get the guy’s police record.  You could see them in the back room sometimes, joking with another officer, “Got another one.” Type of thing and then — then he would pull the report out of the printer and he would come back all business and warning us we were in danger.

 

I never did get to see one of those reports but I sure would  love to. 

 

By the third or fourth night of sitting up all night with a shotgun in my lap, an officer knocked on the door and I put the gun up on a high cabinet.  When the officer came in, I informed him that it was there and loaded.

 

“Are you willing to use it?” He asked.

 

“Absolutely.” I told him. “I will not hesitate to shoot anyone who comes into my house to harm my children or grandchildren.”

 

He then proceeded to tell me how to shoot the stalker while he was still outside and pull his body in.  Obviously, he was old school and did not watch Law & Order.  I don’t think it was even on at that time.  But, the officer didn’t know much about blood spatter evidence, obviously.

 

In the end, the Judge threw the guy in jail for seventy-two hours and warned us that we had to use that time to pack up our life and move. There was no stalking law back then and he told us flat-out that we were not safe from this man.  We had to disappear.

 

So we did. 

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News I hear from mom, in her senior apartment, is unfortunately full of who broke their hip, who went to a nursing home and what little old man is hitting on the ladies. When she first moved in, ladies would knock on her door, if they saw her talking to the “wrong” man at lunch, and warn her. It wasn’t because elderly Henry was trying to “hit” on her. It was usually to warn her that elderly Henry would borrow money and not pay it back. Senior men are now the gold-digger’s.

 

Her newest neighbor, however, is a different type of gentleman and gives the ladies a lot to fill their day. He caused the first uproar the day word got out that he had told another man that he “needed a woman.” The next rumor was when a little lady with Alzheimer’s went around stating he had forced his way into someone else’s apartment. Then, he was walking down the hall drunk and muttering to himself. Now, he goes and gets arrested. And, right in front of the building.

 

One day, a young oriental girl knocked on mom’s door. She said she was visiting the man next door and he didn’t have any ice. Mom let her in and let her get ice. I’m pretty sure Master’s Daughter will be hurt at this. She was never allowed to get ice herself. A couple of days later, two oriental young ladies knocked on her door. They needed more ice for their “visit.” This time mom gave them two trays of ice, tray and all. She said they were very sweet ladies but mom was suspicious of their profession; given the man had already stated he “needed” a woman. Master’s daughter was curious as to whether the ice was needed due to one of the serious side affects mentioned in the little blue pill commercials.

 

The other day a very tall man knocked on mom’s door and asked for “that old man.” She immediately thought undercover policeman. There had been a rumor of a sweet smoky aroma emanating from the guys apartment for a while. Mom told him to try next door, shut her door and went back to her television. Later the rumor mill was abuzz.

 

Two police cars were outside the building. The fellow next door was resisting arrest and had to be subdued and handcuffed.  Guess he’ll be moving into other facilities now. Guess mom was right about the undercover cop. Guess the lady was right about the “sweet” smoke smell. Mom had not heard a thing that went on.

 

We’ll never know if the ice was for the possibly dangerous side effects of that little blue pill.

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